The Forgotten
by Jatheus
Summary: When a mare loses her memory, even down to her ability to speak, she is taken in by an old unicorn and taught how to function and take care of herself. This is the beginning of her quest of self-discovery to regain what she has lost. This story is based on an original concept by Marrow-Pony. /marrow-pony His artwork and concept used by permission.
1. Chapter I

**_The Forgotten: Reflections_**  
 _Chapter I_

Once upon a time in the magical land of Equestria…

The mare gazed by moonlight into the smooth surface of the unmoving pool that lay before her. Only the faintest hint of ripples disturbed the otherwise glassy surface. No doubt some gust of breeze or insect, perhaps even fish beneath had caused the flutter. Yet the mare didn't have the presence of mind to be aware of any of these things.

She stared blankly, taking in her reflection. Blue eyes stared back at her from the face, a pony's face. Gray fur made up her coat, and atop her head was a long and flowing, though somewhat unkempt mane of peach or salmon.

Though, she was uncertain as to the meaning of what she saw. Even for how long she had sat growing colder in the chilled air, she had no idea. There was only the moment and a feeling, an unpleasant sensation like a passing sorrow that was fading from her mind.

Looking up from the waters, she saw more of the wooded area that surrounded her, bathed in the same silvery light from above. It was filled with trees that anypony would consider unique. They bore long thin tendrils, much like a weeping willow. Leaves hung lazily down the length of the tendrils and luminesced golden.

A flapping tickled the mare's ears, and she turned to her left to discover four sets of glowing leaves that had abandoned their tree and were flitting about on their own. She didn't have the presence of mind to comprehend that in actuality they were not leaves at all; they were butterflies.

A smile contorted her face at the jovial way they danced through the air. The mare stood, more out of instinct than intent, and began to follow them.

Through a lush forested area, the mare pursued the butterflies in the night. They were rather mesmerizing to behold. As they walked, the forest changed. It was as if a fog had covered everything, obscuring all for a moment. Dawn broke the horizon and illuminated this new place as the haze cleared. The trees seemed shorter, and much larger and ornate. There were others beings there as well, moving about on legs as she was.

She didn't recognize any of them, and they went in and out of the large straw covered trees. They somewhat reminded her of the face that she'd seen in the pond, though they were all different shapes and colors. Some of them looked at her and smiled. Most simply passed by, ignoring the mare entirely.

The butterflies entered one of the large square trees through a rectangular opening. The mare followed them inside. It was a quiet place, and yet, it seemed like it should be familiar. The mare looked around at the various ornaments and decorations. The shape of the interior was inorganic with many flat surfaces and corners.

One thing that did catch her attention was an image, smaller than the reflection in the pond, bound with a similar glassy surface and bordered by a shiny cold material. There were two smiling faces. One looked like the same face she'd seen in the pond, but she didn't recognize the other.

Almost escaping her attention, the butterflies took flight again and made for the door. The mare followed. Her little companions stopped, flying in place in a pattern where they circled each other for a few moments, and then they continued on again.

The mare followed the butterflies until there was nopony around. They found themselves in another haze before another forest, somewhat more like the one where the pond had been. The odd group continued deep into the wooded area. The chilly air bit at the pony's nose and ears.

A light grumble worked it's way through the mare's stomach just as they came to something curious. Much like the strange square trees they'd found before, there was another one there in front of them. Thin wisps of smoke curled up from the chimney, disappearing into the sky.

A gust of cold wind tickled the tree tops, making them sway above. Needles and leaves dropped, a harbinger of the coming change. The mare began shivering, an unpleasant sensation she could not remember experiencing before.

Still in pursuit of the butterflies, she would have continued deeper into the woods but for a sound that caught her ears. She turned to face the cottage as the door creaked open, seemingly of its own accord.

The butterflies stopped, flitting about in place as the mare gazed at the darkness of the nearby doorway. She stood starting at it just as her teeth began chattering all on their own. From within the darkness of the structure, an old and seasoned stallion's voice called out.

"Come in out of that cold!"

Having no memories to draw on, the mare also had no fear. She was interested to see where the strange noises had originated, and she walked forward into the little house without so much as the slightest hesitation. She had only curiosity, and the butterflies, which followed her inside.

It took her eyes moments to adjust as the door creaked shut. It was much warmer inside, thanks to a warm flickering glow nearby. What she saw next was an old unicorn. His mane had gone gray from age, and patches of white were throughout his dark coat. The unmistakeable scent of decay was in the house. The old stallion moved away, sitting in a chair by the fire.

"You can get warm too if you like," he invited cordially, his green eyes had a kindness to them.

She, however, was content to simply look around for a moment, taking in whatever fell within her sight. An old wooden table and two chairs were near a small window. One of the chairs had a layer of dust coating it. There was also a bed in the corner and a very small kitchen near the hearth. The ancient unicorn regarded her silently while she devoured the layout of his small cabin.

"You're not from around here, are you, young one?" He wore a tired smile now. Tilting his head to one side, he asked, "How is it that you have acquired your butterflies?"

The mare didn't speak, for she still did not know how. She simply smiled at him as a child might. She was happy to have stopped shivering. The unicorn looked at the glowing butterflies again, sniffed the air and nodded slowly.

"I see there is magic at work here. Well, there isn't a thing I can do about that. However, if you're willing to stay and keep an old stallion company this winter, I might be able to offer you something of which I possess a great deal."

She gazed back at him with pure innocence.

"Knowledge," he said with a grin that revealed several missing teeth.

The butterflies fluttered across the room, landing near the old stallion. The mare followed and sat down on the floor, her attention suddenly gained by the heat emanating from the flickering oranges and reds in the stone hearth nearby. It was rather captivating to watch.

"Since you don't speak, I expect you won't know your name either," the old one continued. "I'll have to think of one for you."

Just as the mare was about to see if she could hold the flickering, the butterflies took flight again, swiftly coming straight at her face. She backed away, gaining a much safer distance from the fire.

"They seem to care about you… how curious…"

The mare sat down again, the butterflies this time landing on top of her head. The old unicorn grinned once more.

"I suppose it would be no harm in naming you for the kin of your little friends there, especially as your cutie mark looks just like them. I expect that is a result of the magic that drained your memories and not a coincidence. Back where I was a colt, we had the most beautiful type that shared the golden color, though, they were not magical." He took a breath, "You shall be known as Mestra Amymone."

The mare looked up to the speaking stallion, not understanding any of his words but finding his voice comforting.


	2. Chapter II

**_The Forgotten: Reflections_**  
 _Chapter II_

"I'm not angry, Mestra," the elder stallion seethed as he scrubbed the wooden floor of the cottage. "There are many things to which you must still become accustomed. Until you do… until you learn to understand the things your body is telling you, these things will happen…"

The mare, of course, did not understand most of the words that Magister used. Since they had met a few weeks before, he had constantly used new and different words. She had learned several of them, but it seemed the wellspring from which he drew them had no end.

She was becoming better at reading the unicorn's moods, and despite the fact that he had used the words 'not angry', she was fairly certain that he was upset with her. She hadn't intended to make a mess on the floor. By the time she'd realized it was happening, it had been too late.

The salt-and-pepper stallion stood, his work completed, and washed up. He drew out a small ladder and pulled a small green ceramic jar from one of the upper cupboards. Placing it on the table, he drew a candy from within and took into his mouth. A blissful smile twisted his face.

"Aaaahhh…" Mestra Amymone vocalized, reaching toward the jar.

"I'm just rewarding myself for the cleanup. It makes unpleasant tasks easier."

"Aaahh!" she made her motion much sharper.

"Mestra, we have been over this," Magister sighed patiently. "Use your words."

The mare frowned and grunted, looking around for something to help her memory. Her butterflies were sitting above the fireplace, all basking in the warmth together. Mestra began working through the few words that she knew, trying to remember what they were supposed to mean.

She decided on a few and began, "Magister… candy… give."

Her mentor smiled, delivering the request to the mare, which she greedily accepted.

"Good enough, Mestra."

Her brain hurt a little from the effort, but any discomfort was quickly washed away by the sweetness of the hardened caramel against her tongue. She knew not to try and chew it up, as it was just to be sucked on until it dissolved. Magister put the jar and stepladder away.

Something caught the stallion's attention, and he was drawn to the little window beside the door. A grin worked its way upon his face. Without a word, he went back to one of the closets and began rummaging around.

Mestra ambled over to her sleepy butterflies. Aside from an occasional opening or closing of wings, they sat perfectly still. Magister approached from behind, and the mare turned to face him.

He wore scuffed black boots, a green scarf, and a faded black knit cap. He also had a few items for her, a white hat similar to his own, a blue scarf, and boots. After getting her into hat and scarf, Magister gave up on the boots as she didn't like their constricting feel and kept kicking them off, but the mare was content to wear the hat and scarf. The pair went to the door.

Magister stopped and spoke, "Mestra, there's something outside that you need to see."

Opening the door, it took a moment for the mare's eyes to adjust, and she nearly choked on her candy when she saw how the land had been transformed. She followed the stallion outside, and the white blanket that covered everything crunched beneath her bare hooves, sending a shiver through her body as the cold assaulted her senses.

"It's the first snow," Magister grinned again.

An exuberance took over the mare, and she darted through the little clearing that was in front of the cottage, before stopping and turning back to the sound of Magister laughing. She spun and galloped around the perimeter of the area as fresh flakes of snow fell from the sky.

Her butterflies also came outside and began swirling around the mare as she charged back and forth, eventually flinging herself down on the soft bed of white into which her hooves had been sinking. The cold bit at her much more quickly when she did that, compelling her to stand again and shake the snow from her coat.

Magister had been busy, and now his efforts caught her attention. She padded through the snow toward him; it was not stinging her hooves as badly, but they were beginning to get numb.

"Aaaahhh?" the mare vocalized.

"Use your words, Mestra," her mentor said calmly without so much as looking up at her.

He had been piling the snow up as if he were building something. She tried to remember the word for this. Presently, it escaped her. One word did come to mind, but she didn't know if it was correct, so she decided to try it anyway.

"Magister… which?"

"Which? Did you mean, what?"

She nodded, "Ah!"

"Look," he said as he made his finishing touches. "It's a snow-pony."

"What…"

Magister shrugged and smiled, "It's just for fun, Mestra."

She turned, beginning to shiver, and noticed from the door and everywhere she'd run, there were deep impressions in the snow. She leaned down to inspect the nearest set.

"Those are your hoof-prints, Mestra. They let you know where you've been. You can use them to find your way back." He snorted, "I suppose memories are not dissimilar."

As usual, Mestra Amymone didn't understand most of what Magister was saying. She began shivering, just as she had when she'd first found his cabin.

"You should have worn the boots," his smile faded somewhat. "Let's head back inside and get you warmed up."

The odd little group was soon inside again, the butterflies resting by the fireplace and Mestra basking in the heat as well. She decided that she liked the snow.


	3. Chapter III

**_The Forgotten: Reflections_**  
 _Chapter III_

Mestra Amymone crept through the cottage. She suspected that Magister had fallen asleep as he often did in the early afternoon. These times were especially boring for her, as she didn't get sleepy until nighttime. Though he had warned her to not go outside alone, she had taken to doing just that on those long afternoons. It was more out of an innocent foolishness than a tendency to rebelliousness.

On these excursions in the middle of the bright winter days, she would practice the few words that she knew, repeating them over and over to the butterflies that were her constant companions. She could see her breath on the cold air and wondered whether those were her words that she saw. Of course, butterflies don't ever talk to ponies; Mestra Amymone wasn't certain whether they were unable or simply had nothing to say.

The weather being particularly cold out, the mare found her favorite set of clothes to insulate herself against the elements, a red sweater, white crochet hat to keep her ears warm, a light blue scarf and black rubber boots. She had initially resisted having anything over her hooves, but she wouldn't be able to walk far without going numb if she didn't wear them.

Were she a suspicious pony, she might have wondered why the old unicorn had mare's clothes in her size. However, Mestra Amymone simply accepted the world as it lay before her. Now dressed for the cold, she cast a final glance back at Magister, sitting in his chair by the fire. His eyes were closed in a peaceful afternoon slumber, his chest slowly rose and fell with each breath.

She softly exited the cabin, being careful to not open the door too far, as it would creak rather loudly. Shutting it quietly, Mestra Amymone and her butterfly companions found themselves in a snow covered landscape, brilliantly illuminated by the sunlight that came though the naked branches of the trees.

She walked, crunching the snow beneath her booted hooves. The sound of it was a most pleasant munching. She never worried about getting lost, because her hoof-prints always led the way home.

Once the cabin was out of sight, Mestra Amymone began practicing her words, speaking them to the butterflies as they flittered about her. She walked, enjoying the brisk bite of the wind against her face, and watching her words as they floated away like little puffs of cloud. It made her wonder who was speaking to create the big clouds that hung in the sky up above the trees. Whoever it was, she knew that they were angry sometimes, because she could hear them. Those times were particularly frightening, as the booming voice thundered so loudly. There was little chance of that today. It seemed to only happen when dark clouds filled the sky.

Mestra Amymone stopped suddenly when her hooves didn't make the right sound. Instead of the soft crunching of snow, one of her boots made a clacking noise. Her hooves also didn't sink like she expected. Looking down, she discovered a new kind of ground. It was very hard but smooth. It stretched out in front of her, and no trees grew in this place. They were all around, but there were none in this perfectly flat clearing.

She stepped forward and the world spun a moment; Mestra Amymone felt almost giddy as she lost all traction and fell hard to the ground. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she quietly swallowed them. Her side ached where she had fallen, but it only hurt a little. This was a very slippery place! With care, she began trying to stand again. It was difficult, but with some effort, she made it back onto her hooves. This time, she was much more cautious as she moved about on this strange surface.

It didn't take Mestra Amymone long to discover that she could keep her balance and slide around. It was exhilarating! She would pick up speed, as carefully as she could, and then stop, sliding for quite a distance before stopping. After a while, she began to learn that she could also move her hooves and turn. She took to this quickly and zipped around with her companions. It must have been what it was like for her butterflies to move through the air.

A loud cracking sound startled Mestra Amymone, and she froze in place, eventually sliding to a stop. She didn't know what it was, but she could see in all directions. She was in the middle of the clearing, so nothing could sneak up on her. The wiser course seemed to be returning to the cabin. There were no hoof-prints directly around her, but she quickly located the set she had left in the snow.

As she took a step, she heard another loud cracking sound; it was coming from below her. The ground shifted, and a long, splintery fissure opened up. Not knowing what this meant or what to do, she made a final attempt to move. The ground split beneath, and she fell into it.

It felt as though Mestra Amymone had just been stabbed by knives all over. She tried to cry out, but bubbles escaped, and then the icy water poured into her mouth and lungs, stinging her eyes, freezing and burning her. She couldn't breathe. Her chest tightened as blinding panic overwhelmed her for a moment and drove rational thought from mind.

She lost precious moments before coming back to herself, her heart racing. There was no solid ground below, but she could see light above. She thrashed and kicked and did everything she could to reach up toward it. Her head broke the surface with much coughing and sputtering. She barely had time to take a breath before she went down again. Her heart was pounding, and the sound of blood rushing in her ears was deafening. She tried to remain calm, but she was shaking all over. She did not like this place, not at all.

Through the same efforts, Mestra Amymone once again made it to the surface. She had the presence of mind to remember a single word that Magister had taught her. He told her to use it if she ever needed him. Drawing in another lungful of air, she felt herself going down again.

Mestra Amymone screamed as loudly as she could, "HELP!"

Then the water was all around again. She couldn't feel her hooves, and the pain of the frigid water didn't seem as bad now. She was choking on it, but it was all she could do to fight to reach the surface again. This time, as she came up, she tried to climb back onto the solid ice again. It broke off under her weight. She managed to keep her head up, kicking hard and pulling at smaller pieces of the shattered ground that seemed able to stay on top of the water.

Unable to even find her butterflies, she cried out again, "HELP!"

Then another piece of the ground gave way beneath her, and she plunged into the water. She suddenly felt rather confused. It was difficult to remember why she was struggling so. She shook her head but realized it was no good. She couldn't overcome the water. Her muscles ached and her legs didn't want to respond anymore. This would be her last attempt to get back on solid ground, and the forgotten pony knew it.

Finding the sweet taste of air once more, the distressed mare managed to grab the icy edge. She didn't try to climb out this time but was able to support herself on it enough to keep her head out of the water. She was crying now, because nopony had come. She had used the word that Magister had taught her, but nothing happened. She was alone, tired, and numb from head to hoof.

Just then, the ground fell away, and Mestra Amymone felt herself floating up into the air. Her butterflies swirled around her and her perception of reality seemed to be fading away. It was almost like dreaming as she soared slowly through the air.

She landed on the snowy bank and with great heaving threw up the water that had been inside her lungs. She looked up to see the old unicorn, a sweat on his brow and a look of weary terror on his face. He wasted not a second as he picked her up, she was like jelly, but he managed to get her onto his back.

The trip back to the cabin was miserable, but Magister never stopped for even a moment. They burst inside, and he very quickly stripped the soaked woolen clothes from the mare and began adding logs to the fire. He left her for a moment and then returned with a large towel and began drying her off. It was rather a strange thing; the fire should have been warm, it always was, but Mestra Amymone couldn't feel it; she could barely feel the towel. The old unicorn used a second towel and continued vigorously rubbing her down, starting at her head, and working his way down each leg in turn.

It was nearly a half hour before she felt anything. It began with a prickling like sharp needles piercing her body that was accompanied by violent shivering. Eventually, the feeling worked its way down to her hooves, but it hurt significantly more by the time it got there. The old unicorn brought some hot chocolate as soon as she stopped shaking enough to hold it. He had been crying.

"Please," he said, his gruff voice somehow very soft this time, "Don't leave like that again."

Mestra Amymone nodded quickly at this request, deciding that there was quite a lot more she needed to learn before it would be safe to go outside on her own again. The old unicorn cleared his throat and began tending to the soaked clothes that were on the floor. He stopped.

"I... I'm glad you're safe."

He looked back at her a moment, his eyes glistening with what looked like sorrow before he wrung out the sweater, scarf, and hat and hung them on the opposite end of the room to dry.


	4. Chapter IV

**_The Forgotten: Reflections_**  
 _Chapter IV_

The cold of winter gave way to the new life of spring. Trees budded new leaves and fruit, flowers bloomed, and birds returned to the forest to sing their cheerful songs. Mestra Amymone strode alongside Magister, each with saddle-bags half-laden with various fruits they had collected. The one type that really stood out to the mare most were the apricots.

The orange-red skin had the appearance of fire. The juicy sweetness was a wonder to the mare, truly remarkable of all the things she'd experienced in her short memory. The experience of falling through ice some months before had left her far more timid, and she hadn't left Magister's side since. Her butterflies had been scouting about nearby, attracted by the flora. The stallion coughed.

"You… is… okay?" Mestra asked.

"Yes, Mestra. The spring air is fresh, but some of the things in it irritate my old lungs. The proper way to ask that is, 'Are you okay?'."

"Are…"

The old unicorn stopped, something having caught his attention. He stooped down.

"Scallions. These will be useful."

"Scal… scalleeons?"

"Scallions. They are of the onion family," he held them up for her to see. "I wouldn't recommend eating them plain. They are best used to flavor other things in cooking."

"Aaah… ingredient?"

Magister smiled. It always warmed Mestra's heart to see him pleased with her.

"That's right, Mestra. Very good."

She felt a smile grow on her own face as the pair continued walking. It was several hours before they completed their circuit, eventually returning to the cabin.

"Here we are," the stallion panted. "I for one am ready to sit these old bones down for a while."

"Home…"

"Yes, Mestra, this is home."

She stopped, a thought growing in her mind as she cocked her head to one side as she regarded the quaint little cottage. Magister also stopped, turning back to face her. He didn't speak, but waited for her to do so.

"Are this, my home?"

"Is this your home? Yes, Mestra. We'll have to work on your verbs some more."

"Why?"

"You don't quite have subject agreement yet."

"No… why… is? Why is… my home?"

"Because you live here."

The mare's brow furrowed as her butterflies returned, landing on her back. She was not satisfied with the answer, and she realized that Magister hadn't yet understood what she was attempting to ask. He didn't continue on, but simply stood there as if waiting for her to say more.

"Why… I live… here?"

Magister pursed his lips as he did while he was in thought. He hummed and nodded slowly, his green eyes looking away to nothing in particular. For a moment, it looked as if a pained expression crossed his face. The butterflies took flight, flittering about Magister's head as he continued thinking. He ignored them, his eyes finding the mare again before he spoke.

"That is a story, I'm sure. However, I'm afraid there are some things of which I have little knowledge."

Mestra almost stepped backward, shocked by the revelation that there were things that her mentor might not know. Surely he had never misled her to think such, but he had taught her so many things since they'd found each other on that cold day.

"Mestra, you came to me from the forest, do you remember?"

"Aah," she nodded.

"Use your words, please."

"Yes."

Magister smiled, "I had never seen you before that day. Do you remember where you came from before?"

The mare put her brain to work, trying to remember back, but it had become foggy in her mind. The previous few minutes she seemed able to remember with great clarity, but that first day was much more difficult. She remembered finding the cabin, and Magister calling to her, though she hadn't understood his words at the time.

Before that, she had some vague recollections, almost like dreams of other ponies and houses with thatched roof tops, and a photo. Her butterflies were also there. As for what the place had been, Mestra simply couldn't remember.

Magister coughed again. Mestra Amymone finally shrugged and shook her head, then let it fall toward the ground in disappointment.

"It's alright, Mestra. I didn't expect you to know that."

She looked back up at him.

"This is your home because you had no other. When you came, I could tell that you didn't know anything, a curious state for an adult mare to say the least. I couldn't let you wander off into the forest like that."

"Danger… dangerous?"

"Oh yes. Very dangerous. Knowledge and experience can be used to protect you from danger. You are giving me companionship, and a bit more purpose than I've had the past few years. I'm giving you knowledge. Life gives you experience."

"I… stay home?"

Magister smiled, "Yes, Mestra. You can stay here with me as long as you like. I expect some day you may want to see more of the world, but know that you'll always be welcome and have a place here."

Mestra felt warmed inside, "I… never leave Magister!"

The old stallion smiled at her, but he looked down.

"Come on, Mestra. We need to get this fruit put away. I'll teach you some cooking tonight, but first, we are going to work on writing and numbers."

"Aah!"

Magister chuckled as she followed him into their home. Mestra felt something for perhaps the first time: a sense of belonging. She didn't know much about the world, but she knew that she had a place in it, a place to call home.


	5. Chapter V

_**Chapter V**_

Summer birds sang heartily as a warm breeze caressed the trees. The forgotten mare flicked her ears as they were tickled by the wind. Water dripped from her mane and coat, cooling her. The golden butterflies danced nearby as Magister's coughing drowned the avian songs. The fit soon passed, and he continued padding slowly behind her.

"Vowels," he said.

The mare felt her brow furrow as she skipped along, "A, E, I, O, and U!"

"And-"

"And sometimes Y!" she spun to face him.

The old unicorn chuckled at her enthusiasm. He nearly had caught up to her when he spoke again.

"You have certainly taken to everything I've tried to teach you."

She grinned in reply.

"I expect you'll be an accomplished swimmer soon. Though, your verbs still need work."

Mestra felt her shoulders slump as she fell in stride with Magister.

"State of being verbs, all tenses."

The mare let her brain work to recall the words before making her reply, "Am... is... was... were... being... been."

"And?" he asked expectantly.

"Nuah! Is not and! And is… is a con… a con…"

"And is a conjunction, but you missed two."

Mestra stopped in her tracks, working her mind to find the missing verbs. She looked around, as if the trees or undergrowth would give her an answer. Something caught her attention at the base of a nearby tree. She turned and trotted over to it, tilting her head quizzically at the discovery.

A brightly colored bird lay crumpled on the ground. It was not unlike the hue of the sky, though a bit deeper. The tips of an outstretched wing had patterned black and white. Her nose wrinkled at the sickly sweet stench that permeated the area. She took a step back from the silent fowl.

"Ah?"

"Use your words, Mestra."

She shook her head, "This bird… Why is… he sleepy?"

Magister frowned, "It's a bluejay, and it isn't sleeping."

"Not sleep…ing?"

"No, Mestra. He's dead."

"Dead," the mare repeated the unknown word. "Magister… can wake up him?"

The old unicorn frowned a second time, "No, Mestra. He's gone."

She looked down at the bird, confused by the statement and asked, "Where he did go?"

Magister coughed before answering, "The life, the energy that powers the body… some call it the soul… it isn't there anymore. Where it goes is the subject of much debate, but once it leaves the body, it doesn't return."

The mare remembered one of her new words and asked, "Not never?"

"No, Mestra," the stallion sat down. "Life is a frail thing, like a candle. However, unlike a candle, it cannot be relit once it is extinguished. Dead is forever."

The mare looked at the lifeless form again, still so brightly colored. It should have been cheerful, but it made her sad to think that it would never sing again.

The little butterflies danced in front of Mestra's eyes for a moment before Magister waved them away. The mare looked to her mentor, feeling some unknown need to do something for the bird. He read the pleading in her eyes and nodded slowly.

"There is only one thing we can do," he spoke deliberately. "The cabin is just around the bend, if you would be good enough to run ahead and grab a shovel, I'll wait here, and we can give him a proper burial."

"Ah!" the mare exclaimed as she darted off.

She galloped past trees and arrived at the cabin within moments, her butterflies struggling to keep up. The gardening shed was outside, and Mestra approached it warily. While she wasn't exactly terrified of spiders, they did give her somewhat of a tiny fright when they crawled upon her.

Cautiously checking as she opened the old wooden door, she was pleased to discover neither web nor arachnid to impede her progress. She retrieved the shovel and returned to Magister at a much slower pace, encumbered by her burden.

She found her mentor still sitting where she'd left him, and he showed her where to dig. It was not her favorite activity, but there was something comforting about the simplicity of working the earth. The rich scent of freshly disturbed soil soon filled the air, and it wasn't long before the old unicorn told her to stop.

"Now, the shovel, please."

Mestra passed the tool to Magister, and he used it to gently lift the body of the bird, delicately placing it in the ground. He then leaned the shovel against the tree and stood over the hole for a moment.

Looking to her, he said, "It is customary to say words, reverently."

"Rever… rev… ently?"

"Reverently. It means, respectfully or thoughtfully."

She nodded in understanding as her butterflies landed on her back.

"Little bluejay," Magister began, "You were beautiful in body and in song. The world is a sadder place to no longer have your melody sounding in it."

He looked up to Mestra, who felt rather self-conscious and shook her head, opting to say nothing. Magister nodded and then took the shovel, using it to fill in the hole. As they walked back to the cabin, the passing of the bird weighed heavily on the mare's mind.

"Magister, why did bird dead?"

"Die. Why did the bird die?"

"Ah," she suddenly remembered to use her proper words, "yes."

He stopped just short of the door to the gardening shed. Magister looked down for a moment in thought. The butterflies lifted off and flew over to him. He waved them away and returned his attention to his ward.

"Mestra… it is the nature of all living things to someday die."

It took a few moments for the impact of what he'd said to become fully realized by the mare. Something akin to panic flooded her mind and her ears folded back.

"Everything?"

Magister nodded solemnly, "I wish I could tell you differently, but… I cannot protect you from hard truths, and I'd be a fool to try. Given enough time, we all grow old and die."

She didn't like it, not one bit. The mare looked away, but found no comfort in the trees or the singing of the birds overhead. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to be like the little bird, forever silenced and left to decay. The warm embrace of the old unicorn took the edge from her panic.

"Easy, Mestra. It's okay. You have many years yet before you have to worry about that."

She relaxed into his fatherly embrace, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I'm sorry to have so frightened you. I suppose I thought that, since you had the presence of mind to ask the question, you needed a proper answer."

The pair separated, the mare looking into the wise elder's green eyes.

"There are many hard truths in this world, Mestra Amymone. Some are far more easily borne than others. Since we met, I've been trying to train you up with everything you'll need to face the world. Sometimes, what we need and what we we want are quite different…"

The old unicorn took a breath, seeming lost in thought for a moment before he smiled and added, "Try to not dwell on these things. You can't change them, after all."

She returned the expression, and did feel somewhat comforted, though not exactly happy. He returned the shovel to its place, coughing a bit as he closed the door to the musty shed.

"Come on, I need some water, and I think you need a candy."

Mestra's spirit was somewhat lifted at the promise of the sweetness as the pair went into the cabin.


	6. Chapter VI

_**Chapter VI**_

Mestra and Magister sat by the fireless hearth. The elder unicorn had not lit flame within since the cold days of winter had passed. There was somewhat of a chill to the air. Magister had explained that it was the coming autumn, which heralded the approaching of winter once again. What held her attention presently was a quiz on counting. Her eyes examined hay straws on the floor as she added silently.

"Five, and five more; that's ten!" the mare said proudly as her butterflies sat on her back.

"Very good, Mestra," the gray-maned unicorn smiled at her. "And how about these?"

"That is three, and four, and two; that makes nine!"

The old unicorn chuckled at her exuberance, causing him to cough, "You certainly do learn quickly, young one. If only you were a unicorn, I could teach you some magic as well."

She tilted her head at him quizzically. He returned her gaze but didn't say anything. She was certain that he knew a question was coming. Magister was adept at reading her expressions, but he never would anticipate what she might be wondering. He patiently waited for her to formulate it in her mind.

"One and one makes two," Mestra said slowly. "You have two chairs."

"Yes, we have two chairs."

"Two chairs by the fire; two chairs by the table," Mestra could feel her brow furrow in thought. Then she asked, "Why do you have two chairs?"

"One for me, and one for you. That makes two," he replied.

She tilted her head again, "But what about before me?"

His smile slowly evaporated, "What do you mean?"

"I remember," she said curiously. "When I came, there were two chairs. Did you know I was coming?"

"No, Mestra, I did not," the unicorn replied dryly.

He began cleaning up the straw.

"Nopony else comes here but me," the mare said, still trying to work it out. "You and me makes two. Why two chairs?"

"Don't worry about it, Mestra; it isn't important."

This answer simply would not do. She felt a powerful curiosity at the mysterious presence of the extra chair. Given her lack of memories before they'd met the previous winter, she simply didn't have any refined ability to understand subtext, which made the old unicorn's moods somewhat unpredictable to the mare.

"Magister, you were the only one here. Why two chairs?" she asked again. Suddenly remembering the sweaters and scarf that he had given her, she inquired, "Why do you have clothes for mares?"

"Mestra!" he replied hotly as he stomped toward her, "I told you it is unimportant!"

He hesitated a moment, his expression filled with concern and something else. Then he turned and left the cottage, slamming the door behind him. The mare felt crushed by the reply. Surely he hadn't intended to hurt her feelings, but that is exactly he had done. Mestra Amymone burst into tears and put her head down, crying as a filly would.

The butterflies suddenly lifted off of her and began swirling around the forgotten mare's head. They then flew toward the door. Through the sadness she now felt, she was somehow compelled to follow them. Drying her eyes, she stood up and walked toward the glowing little companions. They went outside into the night.

The forest around the cabin was familiar to her, though it always made her somewhat uneasy in the dark. Even by the moonlight, she could tell that the leaves were changing from their normal colors, looking almost as if they had ignited into hues of oranges, reds, and yellows as though they were aflame. There was also a coolness to the air.

The butterflies led her away through a fog. In a short time, as if by some secret path she had never been able to find previously, Mestra found herself in a different part of the forest. She might have been afraid, but she knew this place. It was familiar somehow, as if she'd seen it from a dream.

The trees sat by the water, with large gnarled roots that covered the ground and drank their fill. Many more butterflies than her companions were there, attached to the trees. As she drew closer, they too began to come toward her. They were beautiful, almost enough to lift her spirits. Something inside told her to take caution, so she stopped short of the bank. The butterflies still seemed to beckon her to come closer. Curiosity would soon get the better of her.

A blinding flash of light and a thunderclap startled Mestra Amymone, and she spun to find the wise old unicorn standing behind her as if he had appeared out of thin air. A pained expression was on his face as he fell down to his knees.

"Mestra!" he said almost frantically, "don't go near the trees."

She tilted her head questioningly, "Why not?"

"They will make you forget," he said.

"Why should they do that?" she asked.

"It is their purpose," the unicorn replied just as a fit of coughing overcame him.

It was a strange thing that a tree should be able to make one forget, but Magister had never lied to Mestra. He knew everything.

Her mentor recovered, finally standing again and continued, "They feed off of sadness and sorrow. I expect that is how you came to forget yourself. You've been here before, haven't you?"

She turned and looked at the trees again. It was definitely a familiar place. She nodded her answer.

"I suspected as much when I first saw you. I was afraid they might bring you back here eventually."

"Where are we, Magister?" she asked. "How I did not find this place before?"

"It's a kind of magic," he puffed, seemingly out of breath. "They can lead a pony here from anywhere, but what I don't know is what will happen to you if you get too close. They might just take your sadness, or they might take everything again. You could forget all the things I've taught you."

That was a somewhat unnerving thought, and Mestra took a step toward the unicorn, but then stopped short as she remembered his previous harsh words. He studied the look in her eyes.

"I am sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean to hurt you, but there are some things that I'm not ready to say. There are some things that you're not ready to hear." He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, "If you come back with me now and don't return to this place again, I promise that I will tell you everything when we're both ready."

If she didn't know better, she might have thought he was afraid. She closed the distance between herself and her wise old friend. He smiled uneasily at her and then closed his eyes. They stood in silence a moment, Magister drawing a deep breath. A dim white light glowed from his horn as he concentrated. It grew brighter until a blinding flash of light enveloped both of them. A popping rang the mare's ears, and the next thing Mestra Amymone knew, they were back in the cabin.

The old unicorn was taken by a fit of coughing and collapsed to the floor. Panicked, the mare tried to pick him up, but he pushed her back.

Between coughs, he managed to say, "I'll be fine… Mestra… Just give me a moment…"

Her fears waned as Magister recovered from the fit and slowly stood, ambling to the kitchen to get a glass of water. It was then that Mestra noticed the absence of her companions, spinning about to look for them.

"Where are my butterflies?"

"I don't know," the unicorn replied with a sigh of relief, "but I expect they shall return by morning."

The mare was highly unsettled, still looking around for her butterflies when the old stallion approached her. She met his gaze.

"It's going to be okay, take a breath."

Mestra inhaled deeply and held it for a moment before letting it out. It did have a calming effect. Bedtime was an unpleasant experience that night, mainly for the uncertainty for the butterflies. Mestra loved to watch them as she got sleepy, and it made her sad to not have them.

She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she awakened the next morning. The butterflies were flitting about the room, one of them having landed on her snout and tickling her. Mestra was overjoyed to have them back, though she didn't forget that night or the warning that Magister had given her. She knew that some day, the butterflies might try to take her again to the trees that make one forget. She resolved that she wouldn't follow them to that place, not ever.


	7. Chapter VII

_**Chapter VII**_

Mestra Amymone walked through the forest, dead fallen leaves crunching beneath her booted hooves. Her butterflies danced through the air nearby, the four of them together in a little group. The air was crisp and cool, her scarf and crochet hat being sufficient to keep her warm. Most of the leaves had given up their fiery colors and abandoned their trees. A few still remained aloft, though they too would not stay up for much longer.

Arriving back at the cabin, Mestra entered, leaving the door open just long enough for her little companions to follow. She could hear Magister coughing again, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water for him. While there, she also offloaded the fruits of her excursion: a few bags of assorted berries, and the largest pumpkin she had seen yet.

Magister nodded his thanks when Mestra gave him the glass of water. He looked thin and frail to the mare, even more so now that he had given her most of the chores to do herself. The water seemed to work a bit of rejuvenation on the old unicorn, and he recovered from the bout of coughing.

"Thank you."

"Ah! I found a pumpkin."

"Good. I'll show you how to prepare it," he said between heaving breaths. "Mestra, I would like to go for a walk today."

"I get your scarf."

"Will get. You will get my scarf."

"Will get. Ah!"

She was glad that he wanted to go out. She enjoyed the forest greatly, but it was somewhat lonely without Magister. He hadn't joined her on an excursion for several weeks. The pair made their way outside, closely followed by Mestra's butterflies. The prospect of winter returning pleased the mare. She remembered seeing her breath on the air, and she had loved the snow.

A gust of wind compelled Mestra to tighten her blue scarf and pull her white crochet hat lower. Magister seemed to shrink against it, and the mare helped him in the golden light that heralded the coming sunset. Her butterfly companions swirled about, mostly staying just behind her as they walked.

The pair ambled through the forest toward a place that Mestra had not before been. Her mentor had never shown her the overgrown path that led to a big hill. Muscles strained as they climbed upward and left the trees behind. It made the forgotten mare feel particularly warm, but sitting still on top would cool her down again.

The view that lay before them to the west was magnificent. The darkening sky was melting into various hues of golden yellows, reds, and purples in some wispy clouds on the horizon. A lone pear tree stood atop the hill. The two came close and sat in front of it. They watched together as the sky transformed itself into the most dazzling display of colors that Mestra Amymone had ever seen.

"It's like a fire!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, Mestra," the magister smiled, drawing deep breaths from the exertion of climbing up the incline. "It is a fire."

"What keeps it up there?" she asked, tilting her head.

He chuckled at the question, letting out a cough "I can only guess a magic beyond any that I understand."

That was a surprising statement from her mentor. Although he rarely used it, she was well aware that he knew magic. He had once pulled her from the frozen pond into which she'd fallen with little effort. Another time, he had appeared out of thin air and taken Mestra Amymone back to the cabin in the blink of an eye.

They continued watching in silence as the shining disc of the sun finally slipped below the tree line, its golden rays escaping from across the land. Its warmth left, the air cooling Mestra's face.

"I haven't come here in far too long," the wise old unicorn broke the silence of the evening.

"Why is that, Magister?" the mare asked.

Without saying another word, the unicorn turned his head and nodded behind them to the tree. Mestra turned and could see two stone pillars sticking out of the ground near the roots. She hadn't noticed them when they had arrived.

The mare took the few steps back and looked at the short, wide stone markers. There were words carved into them. Mestra Amymone was good with her letters, but there were words she didn't recognize. She concluded that they must be names. Eridani was on the left stone, and Equulei was on the right as she faced them. Further reading led her to understand what they were: gravestones. The mare turned back to face her mentor.

"Who they were?" she asked.

Silence followed for nearly a minute. She stood her ground, staring to him.

"Magister?"

The old unicorn let out a sigh, "That is not my name, Mestra. I am Magister Pyxidis. Magister was the title bestowed upon me. I was once chief unicorn, long ago in a place called the Crystal Empire. Many unicorns are gifted with magic, so for me to rise to position as the number one unicorn in that kingdom was quite an honor. There was nothing beyond my reach."

Mestra Amymone walked back to her teacher and sat down in front of him. He had never told stories of his past before. It seemed to take great effort for him to so much as sit upright as he continued speaking.

"The kingdom is lost. In my arrogance, I thought I could stop King Sombra when he turned to darkness. I had gone into the mountains to cast a spell of protection on the empire. I underestimated how far he had fallen; the lengths to which he would go…"

The old unicorn seemed lost in thought for a moment before he continued, "I failed, and when the Crystal Empire vanished, I was alone. I went south to Equestria, where we now are. I made a living, using my magic to help others, and sometimes just to put on a show. Ponies will pay to see something truly spectacular. In all my travels, I was hollow and incomplete. My failure always haunted me, and so I would move to the next town."

Magister Pyxidis pawed at the grass, "On one of these times, I came to a place called Hollow Shades, which is just south of Neighagra Falls. I did my usual tricks and earned my fare. As I was leaving, I happened to hear a mare crying out. From a distance I saw her just as I heard the train whistle. You see, she was stuck on the tracks and couldn't escape."

Mestra had never seen a train, but she had been told about them many times in stories. She'd been told they were great iron houses on wheels that moved along metal rails on the ground. She very much wanted to see one someday.

"Nopony else was close," her mentor continued," and I was too far away also. I magically teleported myself to her. It was a terribly frightening moment. The train wouldn't be able to stop, and I couldn't get her free. I was afraid to teleport her out because if I damaged the tracks in my haste, it could derail the train. I summoned every ounce of ability that I possessed and created a magical track to carry the train over us that would then rejoin the real tracks."

Magister Pyxidis took a breath and paused for a moment, "That may have been the most difficult spell I ever created. The train rode over us, just as I planned, and it safely continued on its way. It was heavy," he added with a grin that revealed his missing teeth. "I saved the mare and was able to get her free after the train had gone. Her name was Eridani."

Mestra felt her ears fold back as a lump formed in her throat. It was the same as the name on one of the tombstones. It was like the little bird they had found in the summer.

There was a light in the elder stallion's eyes that Mestra Amymone had never seen before. It made him seem lost in the memory.

He continued, "She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She convinced me to stay, and within a year, we had married. Not long after, as tends to happen, she bore a foal. We moved to the cottage just down there. She planted the tree that sits behind you. Pears were always her favorite."

Mestra Amymone listened more intently than she ever had before. Her mentor's eyes glistened with tears against the waning light.

"When the foal came…" he took a deep breath. "It was a filly." He paused again, as though he would be unable to continue. The butterflies left the forgotten mare and began swirling around him. "Eridani died bringing her into the world."

Mestra felt herself crying now. The mysteries were beginning to become clear. She understood why her mentor had mare's clothes and why he had a cottage that seemed built for more than one to live in alone.

"I named the filly, Equulei," he continued. "She looked quite a lot like you, Mestra."

The forgotten mare didn't want to hear any more. Both of them, so dear to her Magister, taken away. She felt a melting in her chest, as though her heart couldn't handle the things he now said.

"She was a joy to me, but nothing could have completely replaced the void left when I lost her mother. She was a unicorn like me, and she was truly gifted. On her seventh birthday, I went into town early. I wanted to get her a gift that she…" he paused, choking back tears. "When I returned, I found her in the pond. She must have used her magic to open the door, but she couldn't swim."

The pond, the same pond in which Mestra Amymone had also nearly drowned once. Both of them wept for a while in silence. Mestra didn't know how anypony could survive those losses. Her tears were hot against the cool of night as they ran freely for her friend, her mentor.

Pyxidis took a deep breath and continued, "All my great power, and I couldn't save them." They sat in silence for several more minutes. "So, I buried them here. No magic, I dug into the earth myself, and I have lived here alone for years that I left off counting. I could bear neither to get rid of their things nor to leave them."

Mestra Amymone couldn't stand it anymore and she threw her forelegs around her mentor and cried into his shoulder.

"The butterflies, just like yours, have visited me every night since then, but I have never gone with them. They are filled with magic, Mestra. The day you fell into the pond, your butterflies came to me. They woke me from my sleep. That's how I knew you were in trouble."

A fit of coughing overtook the old stallion. Mestra helped him stay upright until it passed. He was heavy.

"You have given me a great gift, Mestra Amymone," the old unicorn said. "This last year has been filled with a joy I expected to never know again. I wish that we could continue this way, but my time is growing short."

Now it was fear the gripped the forgotten mare. She remembered the bird, and the tombstones were sitting nearby. She pushed back, her Magister struggling to stay upright.

"I'm dying," he said plainly.

The words were like a dagger though the mare's heart.

"No! You can't!" Mestra Amymone cried out. "Don't leave me here alone!"

He forced a tired smile, "Mestra, there is nothing I can do to stop it. Do you remember when I told you, given enough time, all living things grow old and die? My magic has already extended my life far beyond what is natural, but I can't sustain myself that way any longer. My strength is used up."

The fear and sorrowful feelings erupted from the mare's eyes. She didn't want Magister to go. She didn't want anything bad to happen to him. From some unknown reservoir, deep visceral emotions churned within the mare. She could barely stand as they forced their way to the surface. She cried out, saying nothing.

"It's okay, let it out," Magister Pyxidis said, pulling her close.

They remained that way for a time in the growing darkness, neither saying anything, just being there with each other until Mestra's tears were finally spent. She looked up, her blue eyes meeting Magister's green. She hadn't noticed until that moment, but his eyes seemed dim, not bright as they had been before.

He shivered, saying nothing. The pair made their way slowly back to the cabin, the way obscured by the night and Mestra's vision blurred by tears. A violent fit of coughing overtook the magister when they arrived inside the cabin, driving him down on his knees until it passed.

Mestra brought him some water and helped him up, half-carrying him to his favorite chair. He took several deep breaths as he recovered.

"I'm sorry," he broke the silence. "I didn't want to make you sad, but there is still much for you to learn, and I don't know how long I'll be able to help you. Do you think you could manage some hot chocolate?"

Mestra nodded, moving to the kitchen and lighting a fire in the stove. They always kept it prepared so it would be easy to light. It would take some time for the water to boil, but she went ahead and got all of the necessary accoutrements laid out nearby. She then returned her attention to the magister.

"You'll have to take over all of the cooking from now on, but the most important thing is reading. It is good that you have learned your letters, but you need to practice. The ability to read gives you the power to learn anything you want to know."

The mare nodded, unsure what to say. He opened his eyes and locked with her gaze.

"It's okay to be sad," he said. "It is natural, and you must let yourself grieve for a time. However, you cannot let it overcome you as I let my losses consume me."

A drab hopelessness filled the mare as she asked, "But how?"

He continued staring into her soul, "It has taken me so many years to learn that you simply have to keep putting one hoof in front of the other. It will hurt, more than you can imagine. You will be overwhelmed at times, but you can't stop. You have to keep moving."

Mestra let her gaze fall to the floor. Moving anywhere was the last thing she wanted. So crushed she felt by the burden of what was ahead of her, she simply wanted to curl up on the floor and never move again. Sorrow filled as it was, she'd have lived in that moment, stopping time for all eternity if it meant keeping her mentor.

Mestra's butterfly companions flitted about her head beckoning her to follow. She looked back to her magister. The aged stallion shook his head at her. She nodded in reply. Looking back to her butterflies, she shrugged, turning away and ignoring them.


	8. Chapter VIII

_**Chapter VIII**_

Mestra Amymone sat for hours she had left off counting. The icy chill of winter had bitten her nose, making it feel as numb as her haunches which rested against the snow. The shadows had grown noticeably longer on the silky white terrain while she stared blankly ahead, the words engraved in stone having become a meaningless blur.

The memories from only a few weeks before haunted her mind. She had watched helplessly in those final days as her magister deteriorated. In spite of what he had told her and what she had seen, the mare hadn't accepted what was coming. One morning, like the little bird they'd found in the summer, Magister Pyxidis was gone.

Mestra felt as though a piece of herself had gone with him. There was no joy in the world. How she managed to get through that day, the mare didn't know. The sting of the loss had made each day after only sorrow and ashes, and so atop the big hill she sat.

A gust of wind penetrated her red sweater, causing the mare to shiver back into focus. Her eyes still resting on letters crudely carved in solid rock. She read them again, 'Magister Pyxidis, Chief Unicorn of the Crystal Empire, loving husband and father. Mestra misses you forever.'

She'd felt the sentiment was appropriate, from things her magister had told her, but it didn't make her feel any better. Nor had saying words over his lifeless body when she'd buried him. Food had lost flavor; learning new things came with no joy. Everything was emptiness.

The frigid breeze picked up again, compelling the mare to rise. She stood there a moment as some small measure of prickly feeling returned to her hindquarters. She cast a final glance at the grave, deciding to speak once more.

"I'm sad you had to go. You told me I can be sad. I came here and cried. It still hurts. This is the last day, just like you told me," she sniffed, either from the cold or sorrow, she couldn't tell. "I'll come back when the seasons go. I miss you."

Fresh tears welled up in Mestra's eyes as she closed the distance and embraced the glacial stone. She let them freely fall, turning to walk back down the hill toward the cabin. The last thing the magister had requested was to be buried beside Eridani and Equulei. A difficult task, but the forgotten mare had felt compelled to honor it.

The frozen trudge back down the hill was its own misery. The naked branches of the trees felt as joyless as the pony that walked beneath them. The icy landscape, clothed in winter snow was quiet. The last time she'd seen it, there was a source of unspeakable joy for the wonders that she discovered around every corner. This day, everything seemed meaningless.

Mestra gained entrance to the cabin without difficulty, shedding her snow-covered boots and crochet layers as well. Though cold in the cabin, she would light a fire and soon be warmed.

The little glowing butterflies left their perch above the hearth and danced before the mare's eyes like little flames in the air. The mare ignored them, tending to the wood in the fireplace and lighting it with flint the way her magister had taught her.

As the first sparks gave birth to tiny flames in the kindling beneath, the mare's stomach growled loudly, causing her to wince from the pain. She had not taken provender with her up the hill, and she had stayed out most of the day. Eating without company caused the activity to lose much of its savor. It had become a strictly utilitarian function, a somber affair.

Mestra Amymone rummaged through the cupboards and found some oats, as well as dried apricots and figs. She ate them silently, remembering happier times with her magister.

The fire had grown by the time she finished, providing its warmth to the little cabin. The firelight was the only source of illumination as dusk faded from the windows.

The mare began to ponder what she might do next. Certainly there was much to learn, and with the icy weather outside, it wouldn't be safe for her to stray too far from the cabin. She supposed she could stay there indefinitely, since she had already learned how to forage for food and tend the little house.

The mare shook her head, pushing the thought from her mind as she rose and walked to the shelf, finding the next book that she had not read. 'Horseodotus, History of the Crystal Empire, Volume One'. She gently dusted the cover before she opened the ancient tome.

The contents were as dry and dusty as had been the outside. Names and dates of important events that held little meaning to Mestra, but she did find the mention of the Crystal Heart of interest.

A magical artifact that protected the empire since its foundation, driving away the frigid winds of the surrounding tundra, the Crystal Heart was powered by the love of the crystal ponies that lived within the fiefdom around the palace.

Her mind wandered a bit to something her magister had once told her. He'd said that ponies had two hearts. One was a part of their biology; it circulated blood through their bodies, taking fresh air from the lungs and expelling used air.

The second was a metaphor, which he'd described as a poetic picture that conveys an idea. The heart in that case being the center of emotions and feelings, love and hate.

Mestra felt a shiver work up her spine. The similarity for how the Crystal Heart worked and the emotional heart were simultaneously beautiful and sad to her. If the Crystal Empire hadn't been lost, she might have liked to see the Crystal Heart someday.

Thought of her own future continued to plague her mind. In spite of her melancholy, she felt her magister wouldn't like it if she stayed in this place. That still left the unanswered question. Where would she go?

The mare let out a sigh as she marked her place in the history lesson and returned it to the shelf. Wanting something else, she scanned around until a little pink ribbon caught her eye. It was sticking out of one of the smaller books, obscured because it was wedged between its owner and the volume beside it.

The book in question had no visible markings on the spine to identify what it might be, and so the mare pulled it from the shelf. There was no dust accumulated on it, though the binding did look rather well used. Mestra read a single word from the cover, 'Journal'.

Following the pink silk ribbon, Mestra found it marking a page near the back of the journal. The words scrawled within looked familiar to the mare. Her heart fluttered. The writing was instantly recognizable as that of Magister Pyxidis.

She read, "Mestra, it is my hope that you will find this after I am gone. The things I have been teaching you were to prepare you for the greatest adventure that could lie ahead: your life."

The surprise that Mestra felt from the discovery of the message left her feeling overwhelmed as emotions churned within. Fresh tears welled up, springing forth and running down the mare's face. She was careful to not let them drip on the journal, the message from her magister.

"Ultimately, it will be up to you what path you choose to walk. I wish I'd had more time to train you up, to equip you for the challenges you will face, but wishing for a thing does not make it so. I don't know your path forward. But consider one thing. Before you became forgotten, you were somepony else. You had family, friends, an entire other life before you met me. Clearly it was a life that had some great sorrows, but perhaps there was love there as well. You may have family that misses you as you now miss me."

The heaving emotions were nearly too much, and Mestra's vision blurred, preventing her from continuing for a moment as she wiped her eyes clear.

"In any case, if you choose to leave the cabin, to seek out other ponies, the nearest town is due south. There is a book on cartography and navigation on the shelf that you should read. It would also serve you well to be wary of strangers. Not everypony is kind and helpful."

She turned the page, dismayed to discover she was nearing the end of the message.

"Whatever you choose, do an old stallion proud, and remember the things that I taught you. Remember the good times. Remember the sad times. Unpleasant though they are, you can learn so much from them that they are an invaluable source of wisdom. You can overcome because you are strong. Farewell, Mestra Amymone, in all your journeys. Magister Pyxidis."

A fresh wave of sorrow overcame the mare's defenses. Dropping the journal, she sank to the floor as great heaving breaths were not enough to sustain her through the sadness. She cried until her tears were spent. She wailed until her voice left her.

She laid there for a time, just watching the fire as it consumed the logs she had put in the hearth, flames licking up toward the chimney, dancing about gleefully. She hated them for that. The fire should have been sad with her.

Eventually, thirst drove her to stand and tend her need. After adding another log to hot coals and waning flame, Mestra sat in her magister's favorite chair and tried to work through her thoughts to a decision.

She liked the cabin, but what did she really know of the world? She'd seen enough to believe she had seen far too little of it to know if she should stay in such a tiny corner to herself. She also considered her magister's words. He believed she might have family and friends out there, somewhere. Missing her so terribly as she missed him.

Her little golden butterflies flitted about her until the mare waved them away.

"I can not go with you. Not now, not ever. I made a promise to my magister."

Sitting there in her magister's rocking chair by the fire, things seemed to suddenly make sense. She didn't want to be the cause of such heartache for anypony else. She was definitely going to leave the cabin when spring came to Equestria. That meant she had precious few weeks to learn everything that the books could teach her.

She'd also need to take stock of what provisions she would need for the journey. Though a heaviness still laid on her, there was something else born within. Mestra almost felt as though a flame had kindled in her heart. It began to fill her with a warmth of hope that it wouldn't be just darkness and sorrow ahead.

Mestra Amymone felt herself smile, perhaps for the first time in weeks. There was a path before her. She knew what to do. The little butterflies found purchase in her mane, tickling the mare's scalp just a little as they did. She allowed herself a giggle. Come spring, Mestra Amymone would be ready to get moving.


	9. Chapter IX

_**Chapter IX**_

The shadow of dreamscape took hold of the mind, showing vague images of others that were obscure and yet somehow familiar. Those figures spoke, their voices calming, almost beckoning to be recalled into consciousness. As they began to fade, a clear soft pattering replaced them. The ghostly images from the night were drowned out, lost completely to the waking world with the breaking of a new day.

As her eyes opened, the mare blinked for the water that splashed against her face; the unmistakeable scent of rain flooded her senses. Mestra Amymone had found a nice clearing in the forest in which to sleep, but it seemed that water was falling, not gently, from the sky. It had doused her fire, which was now steaming into the chilled air.

The mare sat up, groggily taking in her surroundings. Her blanket and clothes were soaked through. She shivered and sneezed. Removing the wet articles was the only sensible thing to do, and she packed them all up and tied them onto her back for easy traveling. A growling stomach demanded attention, so Mestra opened her ever-shrinking bag of oats. There was barely a mouthful left, and the forest seemed devoid of anything edible. With a sigh, the mare ate half of her remaining provender and stowed the bag.

After making certain that the fire was not going to restart, she left her little camp-site and continued heading south through the forest. The little golden glowing butterflies, her constant companions, swirled about her as she began walking, eventually landing on top of her head. They tickled her mane, but not half so much as the rain already did.

Minutes stretched on into hours, and the sun, though hidden by the clouds, made it's trek up and over as the lone mare trudged onward, always south. Her magister had once told her that there was a town in that direction. The days since she had finally left the cottage behind had stretched into weeks. So far as she could tell, she was the only pony left in the whole world. She knew this was false, but there had yet to be any evidence to the contrary.

From her lessons, Mestra knew that it was a wise princess that raised the sun every day. Every night, the same princess would raise the moon, where her own sister was imprisoned for rebelling long ago. Also, pegasus ponies were supposed to be controlling the weather. She never had seen them, but they must have put the clouds overhead and brought the rain.

The forest through which she walked was teaming with life. Squirrels and rabbits, not to mention countless varieties of insects and other small mammals scurried about. Of plant life, there was an overabundance that was beyond identification. The magister had mostly taught her about which varieties were edible. The mare felt herself sigh; she missed her magister terribly.

The butterflies kept her company enough, but they didn't speak. She always wondered what they actually understood about life and the world in general. They seemed to know something of sorrow, as it was their magic to take such upon themselves and so relieve a pony of the burden. With no means of communication, the mare could only wonder if they remembered the sadnesses that they consumed.

Noise up ahead caused Mestra Amymone to halt so abruptly that her butterflies lifted from her head and fluttered about nearby. She strained to hear. The sound was faint at first, but it was almost certainly a voice. The mare couldn't make out the words, but it didn't sound like talking. She crept closer as quietly as hooves through wet undergrowth can be. It was singing. A beautiful voice undulated with no particular words all across the vocal range. It was somehow soothing. Mestra, almost unwillingly, continued walking forward. The voice grew louder as she approached. There were two of them. The second voice picked up a harmony, and the two sang together as one.

Before she realized it, Mestra Amymone had come to a clearing and stood in plain sight. Not far ahead were two mares standing by a stone well. They wore leather saddles with lined leather bags into which they were pouring water from a bucket. One was much older, she had a golden-chestnut coat with a darker mane and tail. Her lavender eyes were filled with wisdom and joy. The younger was black as the night sky with vivacious blue eyes.

They sang together, not noticing the intruder initially. She was content to listen to them sing, but as her butterfly companions swirled about, the older mare saw her and stopped the song. The younger also became quiet and blushed. They all simply stared at each other in silence for a moment as the rain pattered on them. Mestra Amymone wasn't sure what to do.

"Hello," the elder of the pair spoke.

It was a normal greeting. The forgotten mare knew she should reply as her magister had taught her.

"Hi," she said as confidently as she could.

Silence followed for a long moment. Mestra felt somehow nervous, but she didn't know why.

"Those butterflies are beautiful."

The mare wasn't sure how to answer that statement. She felt like she should know what to say, but something restrained her.

"Ah," she managed a half-smile.

"Are you lost?" the older mare asked, stepping forward.

"Lost?" Mestra considered the question.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Ah," the mare tried to form the words. She had grown somewhat out of practice, "Was told… town... this way."

"You were told correctly."

Excitement stirred within the mare.

"I'm Misty," the golden-chestnut said. "This is Stormy, my daughter."

"Hello," Stormy said with a smile.

"Hi."

Misty asked, "Do you have a name?"

"Ah," came the answer, "name… called Mestra Amymone."

"It is nice to meet you, Mestra."

The silence returned again. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled. The forgotten mare couldn't remember a conversation with her magister ever feeling quite so awkward as this.

"Hollow Shades," Misty broke the quiet.

Mestra remembered the name. That was a place where her magister had once travelled. That was where he had made his family.

"Ah... Mestra go… Hollow Shades," she smiled and was beginning to grow more comfortable speaking.

"Do you have family there?"

"Uh... no do... uh... not know."

"Do you plan to stay at the inn?"

"Inside... what?"

"Not in like within, but an inn, like a tavern."

Mestra tilted her head to one side questioningly.

"Is she okay?" Stormy asked.

The elder mare continued, "They sell food and drink, and they have beds to sleep in. You'd need money."

"Mestra… not know... what is a money," the forgotten mare answered.

"I see," Misty smiled disarmingly before taking a moment to think. "What did you hope to accomplish in Hollow Shades?"

"Mestra… forgotten," the reply felt inadequate.

"You forgot why you are going to Hollow Shades?"

"Uh."

Misty's face twisted up, "I'm not sure I understand."

The mare had confused herself as to why she found this so difficult. She had never had trouble talking to her magister.

"Mestra mean… Mestra forgotten... in here," she gestured to her own head. "Hollow Shades... maybe has... others... know Mestra… remember."

"We can help you look," Stormy offered. "I'm good at finding things."

Misty smiled, "What others?"

The gentle pattering of the rain was the only answer that came; it seemed deafening juxtaposed against the lull in the dialogue. Mestra was frustrated with herself.

"Mestra… sorry," she finally managed.

Fresh thunder sounded even closer than the previous report.

"We'd better be getting back," the older mare said. "That lightning is getting close. If you want to, you can stay with us for tonight."

Mestra started to walk forward but stopped short. She felt her own face contort as her butterflies filled her mane once again. She concluded that the months that had passed since she'd lost her magister had caused her troubles with the conversation. There was something she was supposed to say, and then she remembered.

"Thank you."

Misty smiled uneasily, "It's no trouble."

The three of them walked away from the well, the two laden with water-filled saddle bags. This amused Mestra somewhat. Water was falling from the sky, and the two she'd encountered were carrying water that had come from the ground.

The wind began to howl through the trees, which bent and groaned under the strain. The rain became fat drops that pelted Mestra's back. Her butterflies scurried down her neck and hid themselves beneath the load she carried. About that time, they entered a clearing, but it was more akin to a different kind of forest.

It was a forest of cottages, not dissimilar from the one that she had lived in with her magister. Smoke rose from the chimneys, only to be disbursed by the falling rain that pounded mercilessly down. They turned to their right, which Mestra remembered would be west. Amongst the other houses, Stormy and Misty led her to one with a small white fence that bordered the front yard. It was so short that they could have walked over it with little effort. Instead, part of it opened up to them like a door. After Mestra walked through, Stormy looked puzzled, but returned and closed the gate behind them.

As they entered the house, Mestra sneezed. It was dark inside, but Misty found a firefly lantern and agitated the creatures inside to give off their glow. It was always fascinating to watch the fireflies. They revealed that this cottage was larger than the one where the magister had lived. There were more rooms to the side down a hallway. Stormy retreated to a back room and returned with towels.

Mestra Amymone shooed her butterflies, which flittered about the room while she unpacked herself and dried her coat. No sooner had she finished than her companions again took up residence in her mane. She didn't mind this, although they did sometimes tickle when they moved about. After the other two had unloaded their burdens and dried themselves, Stormy showed Mestra where she could hang her clothes to dry. Misty had gone to another room.

"You can sit down, if you like, or you can come with me. I have to help my mom out in the kitchen."

"That where food… made," Mestra heard herself say; the words were beginning to come more easily.

Stormy tilted her head to one side, "That's right."

The pair went into the kitchen. Mestra stood at the door while Stormy began removing things from cabinets. The floor was of white tile, the like of which Mestra Amymone had never before seen. Her hooves made a satisfying clicking sound against it when she set them down. It almost seemed familiar somehow.

The other two spoke to each other in whispers. The observer didn't think much of this, but she didn't understand why they spoke so quietly. She considered asking, but before she had a chance, Stormy turned to her.

"The food's almost ready if you want to sit at the table."

Mestra smiled and did as she was told. The rain continued relentlessly falling against the house and cascading down the exterior, most notably on the windows. Occasional flashes of lightning were punctuated by thunder that followed. The butterflies lifted off and flew away to explore the house. The hosts then entered, setting a tray of sandwiches down on the table along with a pitcher of water.

"I hope you like daisy and daffodil," Misty said a little sheepishly.

"Mestra no have eat... that… before."

They each took a sandwich, and Mestra examined it briefly before taking a bite. She wasn't suspicious in the slightest, and in fact, really didn't know enough about the world to entertain such a notion. Curiosity was the only thing that drove her scrutiny. The bread had a hard crust, but the inner white part was fluffy and seemed to melt in her mouth. The flavors of the insides combined in a wonderful way. It was almost sweet.

"Mestra like it!"

"My momma can cook," Stormy offered proudly.

Misty smiled. They ate in silence until the meager sandwiches were consumed. Only then did the older mare began asking questions.

"So, Mestra, where are you from?"

Considering her reply, she decided on, "North."

The other two were looking at her with expectation in their eyes.

She continued, "Mestra live in... cottage... with Magister."

"Oh? I didn't know anypony lived in the woods."

"What about the sorcerer that lives out there and eats up little fillies who wander off?" Stormy offered.

"That's just an old mare's tale to keep foals out of the forest," Misty chided gently. "Aren't you a little old for such things."

Stormy rolled her eyes at the correction. The forgotten mare didn't know whether the legend was referring to her magister, but she did know that she'd never seen him eat up a little filly. Also, what magic he had done was only ever to help her.

"Mestra and Magister live in forest. Magister finding Mestra. Magister teached to Mestra things."

"What kind of things did he teach you?"

"Magister teaching Mestra all the things. Mestra know numbers and letters. Mestra learn make words," she beamed. "Magister taught to Mestra… the Crystal Empire and Equestria and the mare that raises the sun."

"So, you were with him since you were a filly?" Stormy asked.

Mestra shook her head, sorrow filling her again, as the butterflies returned and swirled about her.

"Mestra only spend... one year with Magister. He d... go away."

Stormy looked as if she would say something more, but Misty shot her a look that brought silence from the younger mare.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Mestra Amymone met Misty's eyes. They were filled with a sadness as deep as the one in the forgotten mare's own heart. The butterflies flew over to the older mare, beckoning her to follow.

Unaware of their call, Misty asked, "What about before?"

"Be-fore?"

"Yes, before you met your magister."

Mestra thought deeply. It was always a place that things became difficult to recall.

"There was pond... and butterflies. Mestra walk... through forest. Mestra find magister. Nothing before. Magister tell Mestra that… Mestra forgotten. Mestra once was filly... grow up... know ponies and learn things... Mestra not remember. Mestra wish Magister... here."

Sadness met her from both of the other mares.

"We lost somepony too," Stormy said.

"Yes, dear."

"Did Stormy have magister?" Mestra asked.

Stormy shook her head, "No, it was my poppa. He was helping build a bridge in the forest, and there was an accident. He died."

The butterflies now were flittering about the two other mares. Mestra could see in their eyes the beckoning. It had formed as the faintest spark, but it was already growing larger in their gaze. The butterflies were trying to take them away.

"Not follow."

That seemed to snap them out of the trance into which they were beginning to fall. Thunder crashed outside.

"What do you mean?" Misty asked.

"Do not follow butterflies."

Stormy looked confused, "Why not? What do they do?"

"Butterflies make… to forget."

"Forget?" Misty asked.

"Make forget... sad… what make sad."

The other two looked horrified at the thought of it.

"I'd never want to forget," Misty said. "It would dishonor his memory."

Mestra offered a bitter smile at this. The wind and rain only seemed to intensify.

"Stormy, would you get dessert, please."

The younger mare said nothing as she trotted to the kitchen.

"Mestra, I would very much like to learn more about you. Certainly we can't send you away in weather like this, so I insist that you stay the night. Tomorrow, we'll have to discuss what to do."

"What... to do?"

"I'm afraid so," Misty hesitated, "I'm not sure we can keep you here indefinitely."

"Mestra not know... what is indef... def..."

"Indefinitely, it means undetermined or sustained without ending."

Stormy returned with a somewhat yellow-colored cake with flecks of orange in it. Mestra took one of the small pieces and bit into it. There was sugar and cinnamon that blended perfectly with the carrots. It was incredibly delicious as the sweetness danced across her tongue.

"Carrot cake; it's my own recipe," Misty said with a proud smile. "For the night, you will sleep in Stormy's room. She'll stay with me. As for a more permanent solution, we'll talk tomorrow."

Remembering her manners, Mestra said, "Thank you."

Misty smiled and said, "It's no trouble."

After dessert and brushing her teeth like the magister taught her, Mestra took a bath and went to bed. It felt good to be properly clean. The butterflies seemed interested in the other two, but eventually found Mestra again and rested on her pillow.

The forgotten mare's mind was filled with the events of the day. She had met two new mares that gave her delicious food and a place to sleep inside. It made her glad, but she so very much missed her magister. She wasn't quite sure, but she felt as if she had made some new friends. The thought of it warmed her heart as she drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter X

_**Chapter X**_

Mestra strayed to consciousness from a dreamlessly peaceful sleep, her senses returning one by one. The wings of her butterflies quietly batting the air was nearly the only sound that disturbed her ears, that and the ambience of an unfamiliar room. She hadn't noticed it the night before, when the sounds of the storm had been enough to lull her to sleep rather quickly.

The forgotten mare opened her eyes and sat up, taking in her surroundings. The soft bed had been such a delightful contrast to the hard ground upon which she had grown accustomed to sleeping. The house was somewhat larger than the cottage where her magister had lived. The floors were wooden, but the walls were of a white substance she didn't recognize. Many of the furnishings were of a lavender color.

Her mind soon recalled the two nice mares she had met the previous day, the younger of which had promised to help find Mestra's family. She let out a long yawn and then stretched out, a faint squeak escaping her muzzle as she did so. Upon standing, the butterflies quickly found their perch in her mane. She giggled quietly as they tickled her scalp. She exited the room, finding Stormy and Misty already buzzing about the house.

"Good morning!" Misty greeted with cheer.

Stormy looked up with bloodshot eyes and scratched her unkept mane, hardly nodding a greeting at their guest. Mestra approached them.

"Ah!" she returned the salutation.

They sat down to a breakfast of oats and hay, which was so dry that Mestra drank quite a bit of water to get it down without coughing.

"What do you plan to do today?" Misty asked.

Bringing her thoughts into focus and forming words, the forgotten mare made her reply, "Stormy take… Mestra find… family?"

Stormy made something of a grunt, but kept her focus on breakfast.

"She has to go to school first. It'll be most of the day before she can help you."

"School… where learn things?"

"Yes."

"Mestra… go school? Mestra no have be to school."

The other two exchanged a glanced. Stormy shrugged.

Misty seemed hesitant, "I don't know whether Miss Acumen would allow you to stay. When she taught my classes, she certainly didn't like distractions."

"Mestra be quiet."

"I suppose there's no harm in asking. If you also accompany Stormy to work, I'm sure they could use you there. If you're willing to help with some of the expenses, you might be able to stay with us while you are in town."

"Ah..." Mestra wasn't quite sure what Misty meant.

"That's right," Misty said to herself, "no concept of money." Refocusing on Mestra, she added, "I'll explain that to you later. For now, just follow Stormy."

"Ah!"

Mestra felt quite excited for the coming day. Not only would she have the opportunity to begin her search in earnest, but she would get to see a school for the first time. Her mind was already buzzing with wonder at the things she might learn.

"Look at the time!" Misty exclaimed. "I have to go, and you two had best hurry if you don't want to be late. Run a brush through that mane before you leave this house," she directed at her daughter.

Stormy grunted as she stuffed the last of her breakfast into her muzzle and stood, leaving the table with her mouth full of food. She returned a moment later, brushing her mane quickly. She dropped the brush on the table, grabbed a faded and worn lavender saddle bag that looked a size too small, and headed for the door.

She turned and spoke around the food she was chewing, "Cmm on, rr wll be late."

Mestra stood and followed, noticing a daisy print on the center of the flap cover on the saddle bags as she drew close. The pair exited the house and were soon walking through town.

The rain from the previous night had spent itself, leaving the land quite well soaked. Puddles had formed everywhere, and water still dripped from rooftops in the morning light. The forgotten mare felt somewhat awed by how many houses were built so close together.

Each street they passed brought more wonder than the last. In an area far smaller than the foraging paths she'd learned when she'd lived in the woods, there easily could have lived several hundred other ponies. Overwhelming as the town became with each passing step, it wasn't until they came to a small stream that Mestra stopped.

The wooden bridge that arched its way across the little brook would have seemed commonplace enough to most, but Mestra had never seen anything like it. Rather than crossing, she went down underneath to investigate. She was amazed to discover that there were no pillars or supports holding the structure in place. The ground was soggy and wet beneath, a sort of thick mud in which she was tempted to leap with reckless abandon. Stormy's voice made her think better of it.

"What are you doing?" her friend asked, approaching from behind and also sinking slightly in the boggy loam.

"Ah?" Mestra pointed at the arch overhead.

"The bridge?"

"Ah... is... bridge... How stay... up?"

Stormy's brow furrowed, "It's an arch. It's supposed to stay up."

Mestra was not at all satisfied with the answer, and tried to rethink the question. Stormy did not wait for her to do so.

"Look, we have to go. We're going to be late."

Mestra tilted her head to one side, "Mestra not know what is a late."

"Come on," Stormy said, walking back to cross the bridge.

Mestra followed, feeling somewhat confused by Stormy's reaction. Their hooves made a deep thumping against the oaken deck of the bridge. As they reached the crest of it, the forgotten mare was amazed how far she could see. It was not unlike being upon a large hill. Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang.

"Nightmare Moon!" Stormy swore under her breath. "Hurry!"

She took off at a gallop, not waiting for Mestra, who also began running when she realized she would be left behind. She followed Stormy at their quickened pace past shops with various scents, most notably that of freshly baked bread, which greeted them as they raced by.

Coming around a corner, a large building came into view. Unlike many of the others, it was not constructed of wood but of a rich yellow brick instead. It also stood somewhat taller, with windows up high in a second row above the first. Atop the roof at the center was a small bell tower. Not so much as pausing, the pair hurtled toward the entrance.

Stormy still leading the way, they went inside the school house, finding themselves in a corridor with hooks lining the walls on either side. All along the hallway were pairs of muddy rain boots. Not having worn such, neither Stormy nor Mestra had any choice but to track the mud with them. They climbed the stairs to the second level, passing two classrooms on the lower floor.

The corridor at the top of the stairs was similar in appearance. The scent of old polished wood permeated the air. The two raced down half the length of the upper level hall and arrived to find a closed door. Stormy muttered something inaudible as she opened it. Mestra followed her inside.

There were two-dozen or so students seated at desks all facing the front of the room. They appeared to be the same age as Stormy. A lone elder mare stood at a blackboard at the front, near where the tardy duo entered. All eyes of the students darted to them as the teacher continued speaking.

"... the perimeter. Now the area of a triangle is not quite so simple as that of a rectangle."

The elder earth pony paused, turning around to face the newcomers.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Stormy mumbled.

"Stormy Nocturne," the older mare looked over her glasses, "What is so important that you not only arrive tardy, but are also tracking mud through my classroom?"

She motioned for Mestra to step forward. "This is Mestra; what was the rest of your name?"

"Amymone."

"She will be staying with my mom and I, and she wanted to see the school."

Turning a steely gaze to the forgotten mare, she sized her up in a moment and spoke sternly, "You may sit there. I will not tolerate disruptions to the lessons."

Mestra felt herself shrinking away in fear, uncertain how to respond to such posturing.

A stallion in the back of the room piped up, "Where did you find a stray?"

The students giggled, and Mestra felt her face grow hot. She sat down, hoping to disappear.

"One more word, Verdant Thicket, and I'll have you cleaning the mud from the hallways this afternoon." Turning back to Stormy, "Do you need an invitation to take your seat, Miss Nocturne?"

"No ma'am," Stormy said as she quickly shuffled to her desk near the back of the room.

"Now, as I was saying, the area of a triangle is not so simple as that of a rectangle. As a refresher, who can tell me the formula for area of a rectangle?"

Hooves shot up.

"Bluebonnet Lace."

A blue mare with an almost white mane stood, a gleam in her yellow eyes, "To find the area of a rectangle, multiply the length by the width."

"Correct. Why won't that work for a triangle? Any pony? Stormy."

The black mare stood and spoke somewhat sarcastically, "Because it isn't the same shape."

The teacher's eyes narrowed, "For a right triangle, if you duplicate it and flip one over so that the ninety degree angles are opposite each other, what will you have?"

Stormy thought it through as it was being drawn in chalk.

"A rectangle," she got out before the picture was complete.

"Correct. Can you find the area of this triangle?"

"I guess."

"Tell me."

Stormy regarded the drawing a moment, "Well in this case, you could multiply the length and width, and... then divide that answer by two."

"Very good."

Stormy sat down as the teacher continued.

"Now, not all triangles have a right angle, and so you can't simply make a rectangle from them, but I used the example to show you that relationship. To find the area of every triangle, you need to multiply half of the base by the height. You can choose any side to be the base."

Mestra's head was already hurting from the lesson, having not learned much about mathematics apart from simple counting and subtraction. She did her best to instead pay attention to other details. She was fascinated how the teacher commanded the attention of the students. Most of them did look at Mestra with curiosity when they could steal a glance. For her own part, the forgotten mare was already far too afraid of older mare behind the horn-rimmed glasses to cause any sort of distraction.

In spite of her best efforts, Mestra was unable to keep interest in the goings on for long and fell asleep, no doubt due to exhaustion from her journey. She thought she heard her butterflies batting about her ears, but was surprised awake by the students packing up their saddle bags.

It was only moments later before the forgotten mare found herself surrounded by young mares and stallions. They seemed friendly but bombarded her with questions more quickly than she was able to respond.

"Who are you?"

"Where are you from?"

"How did you meet Stormy?"

"Why did you want to see the school?"

She blinked, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. She attempted to form a response.

"Mestra... from forest. Mestra no... do be school. Mestra meet Stormy... from forest... ground water."

"Wow, where did you learn how to talk?" a stallion snickered.

It was the one the teacher had addressed as Verdant Thicket. Mestra didn't completely understand the teasing, but she found something in his tone demeaning. It struck a nerve, wounding her within; before she could think, tears burst from her eyes.

Murmuring ran through the students like a wildfire through a dry under-story. They were quickly silenced by the teacher, who had been standing just outside the crowd and paying close attention.

"Verdant Thicket! As you seem bent on causing trouble today, you will assist with cleanup of the classroom and the corridors immediately."

"Aww, come on! I was just teasing."

Silence fell over the group, and several students quietly made an escape into the hallway. The teacher eyed Verdant Thicket with her steely gaze.

"Yes, Miss Acumen," the young stallion finally muttered.

He reluctantly got to work while the others exited. Stormy brought Bluebonnet Lace over.

"Mestra, are you okay?"

Drying her eyes, she simply answered, "Ah."

"This is my friend, Bluebonnet Lace."

"Nice to meet you."

"Mestra happy... meet Blue... bonnet Lace."

Stormy was about to say something but was interrupted by Miss Acumen.

"Mestra Amymone, is it? For the species of butterfly?"

"Ah! Mestra name... gived from Magister."

The teacher pursed her lips and addressed Stormy, "Your grades have been slipping. Starting tomorrow, I expect you in class an hour early for extra assignments."

"That's not fair!" Stormy objected.

"Perhaps if you spent your time studying rather than flirting," she shot a glance at Verdant Thicket, "your marks would be better."

Stormy's face gained a red hue.

Turning to Mestra, Miss Acumen continued, "I'm surprised your command of syntax is not much higher, considering you studied under a magister. You'd do well to accompany your friend when she comes early; I can help you improve your language skills."

"Ah," Mestra replied.

Without another word, the teacher walked away. Stormy held Verdant Thicket in her gaze for a long moment before the three young mares made their way to the safety of the outdoors.

"She must be the most difficult teacher in Equestria," Bluebonnet Lace sighed.

Stormy chided, "Big help you were in there."

"You're joking! She was tearing every pony apart today. I wasn't about to get in the middle of that. You're lucky she didn't have you cleaning too."

"She'd never keep me and Verde at the same time," Stormy kicked the ground as they walked.

"What do you even see in him anyway?"

Stormy shrugged, "He can be sweet... when he wants to. He just doesn't like most ponies enough to try."

They walked in silence for a moment before Bluebonnet asked, "Want to come hang out? My dad's grilling hayburgers. You can both come," she added uncertainly.

"I can't. I have to work."

Bluebonnet Lace seemed disappointed, "Maybe next time, then. Bye!"

"Later."

"Ah!" Mestra chimed in.

The pair crossed the bridge, turned off of the path that would have led home, and walked until the houses thinned. Mestra was amazed to see fields of berries stretching off into the distance. When she'd learned to forage for food, she'd never seen anything like it. A bush here or there, a pair of fruit trees perhaps, but this one field had more berries than the mare could have eaten in a year.

"Ah..."

Stormy snorted a laugh, "I think the word you're looking for is, 'wow.'"

"Wow..."

Mestra's butterflies took to the air, cheerfully darting amongst the neatly arranged flora. School had been something of a mystery, but even though she'd never seen a field such as this, Mestra knew what to do here. It was a comfort that the part of the day she had been most concerned with was more familiar than the part to which she'd been looking forward. After checking in with the forepony, Stormy and Mestra took a bucket each and got to work.


	11. Chapter XI

_**Chapter XI**_

Stormy and Bluebonnet walked alongside Mestra Amymone on a clear autumn day, her butterflies scouting just ahead of them. School had only ended minutes before, and the trio were on their way home.

"Some of us are getting together at my house if you want to come," Bluebonnet offered.

Mestra had been to her house only once, and so far as she knew, that was the only time Stormy had been there since she'd arrived in Hollow Shades. True to her word, Stormy had been taking Mestra around the town in search of any of the forgotten mare's friends or family. So far, none had recognized her.

"I don't know if we can," Stormy apologized. "I mean, I would, but Mestra has apparently never celebrated Nightmare Night before, so my mom volunteered me to put on a costume and take her."

"Aren't both of you a little too old for that?"

Stormy sighed, "Yes, but my mom wouldn't give in. She just kept going on about how Mestra doesn't have those memories, so we need to help her make them." Looking up to the mare in question, she added, "No offense."

"Uh!" came an ignorantly cheerful reply.

"I'd be pretty upset if I had... charity chores on my birthday."

"At least I get candy," Stormy rolled her eyes. "On the upside I don't have to pick berries all afternoon."

Mestra had been excited for Nightmare Night ever since they'd told her about the candy that she could have just for dressing up. She was also glad for the vacation from working in the fields. She had developed sore muscles after the first day, an unpleasant condition that passed eventually.

"You need a proper celebration."

Stormy shrugged, "I'm kind of used to it by now. Nightmare Night has always eclipsed my birthday."

Mestra perked up at the use of a word which was unfamiliar, "Eek... clips?"

"Eclipse," Stormy answered, "Like when the moon passes in front of the sun and hides it."

"Well, I think I'll leave you to it, then."

"You know, you could always come with us," Stormy observed.

Bluebonnet snorted, "And hang out with all the little colts and fillies? No, thanks."

Stormy's friend turned and walked away. Mestra was almost certain she saw Bluebonnet Lace glance back at them and then take off at a gallop just before passing out of sight. The pair continued in silence until they arrived back at the house. Memories of butterscotch hard candies that her magister would sometimes share tantalized and fostered no small amount of anticipation.

Stormy opened the door and went in first.

"Surprise!" several voices rang out.

Stormy seemed as startled as Mestra felt, her body shuddering from fright. Her butterflies, which had flittered off, were suddenly back in front of Mestra's face. She waved them away and saw Stormy grinning widely.

"You guys!"

"Happy birthday!" the group shouted in unison.

Misty was holding a cake topped with burning candles, standing at the center of a small group that included Verdant Thicket, Bluebonnet Lace, and a few of Stormy's other classmates.

"Ah?" Mestra called.

Stormy didn't seem to notice, but continued toward the others as Misty placed the cake on the dining table. The others sang a song again using the unfamiliar word 'birthday', about which Mestra intended to ask. They all wore brightly-colored pointy hats, and Verdant Thicket put one on Stormy.

"Make a wish!" Misty said.

Stormy blew the candles out, and the group cheered.

"What did you wish for?" Bluebonnet asked.

"Come now!" Misty interjected, "If you tell everypony, it won't come true!"

Stormy rolled her eyes. Mestra found herself shrinking into the corner, being ignored by the group. Her butterflies swirled around, taking up their usual position on her mane.

Boxes wrapped with shiny paper and topped with ribbons were brought out, and Stormy tore into them. From Bluebonnet Lace, she received a 'makeover kit' that contained items for mane and tail grooming, as well as polishing one's hooves and makeup.

From Verdant Thicket, she received a crudely homemade book of 'kissing coupons'. Mestra wasn't certain what that meant, but Stormy seemed as embarrassed to open it in front of the group as Misty seemed angered by it. They were quickly put aside.

From her mother, Stormy received new saddle bags, similar in color to her old set through which she had worn holes significant enough to lose smaller items. The new bags were large enough for an adult mare, and bore no flowery decorations.

It was at the end of the presents that Stormy noticed Mestra standing alone in the corner. She didn't immediately approach, but made the first cut in the cake. It was only after Misty took over that Stormy crossed the room.

"Are you alright?"

"Ah."

"Why are you standing over here by yourself?"

Mestra felt her brow furrow, "Mestra know not what go on."

"Really?" Stormy seemed surprised, "It's a birthday party."

"Mestra know not what is a birthday."

The room seemed to grow quiet, and all eyes were drawn to the pair.

"Well, I can explain in a bit. For now, come join us," Stormy said.

She removed her party hat and put it on Mestra, displacing her quartet of butterflies. She then hooked one of her forelegs around one of Mestra's, guiding her to the party. The forgotten mare stepped up to the table, and Stormy passed her a piece of cake. It was red with white icing. The sweetness of it was delightful, but Mestra was far more moved by Stormy's effort to include her in the goings on.

"Were you surprised?" Misty asked.

"Are you kidding? I had no idea!" Stormy laughed.

Bluebonnet Lace grinned, "We've been planning to do this for months."

"Since last year," Verdant Thicket added.

"Well, I think it's perfect!" Stormy praised everypony. "But how did you manage to get the ingredients for my favorite kind of cake without me noticing?"

Misty laughed, "That was a challenge. I know you can sniff out the cocoa if I keep it in the house, so I had arranged to take the day off and went to the store as soon as you left this morning."

"That's... actually really sneaky, mom."

"I have my moments," she smiled back.

"What for is candles?" Mestra asked.

Stormy was quick to answer, "It's part of the tradition. Sometimes you'll get one for each year you are older, but eventually that gets kind of tedious."

"Most ponies I know just use a hoofful of candles instead," Verdant Thicket added.

The conversation that followed was light, but ended up drifting to the Nightmare Night celebration.

"Never?" Verdant Thicket asked.

"Ah," Mestra confirmed, "not ever has a Nightmare Night."

"That's why I'm taking her," Stormy shot a glance at her mother.

Misty answered the look, "That's just how it is, kiddo. To get the day off, I had to volunteer at the salon's 'scary hair' booth in the square, otherwise I could take Mestra."

"Well, I understand," Bluebonnet Lace said, "I just wish you could do both."

"I know," Stormy said. "I'll definitely come next time."

Bluebonnet forced a smile; her eyes betrayed that it held no genuine happiness.

"Well, I can do both," Verdant Thicket declared. "I have to see this, so I'll come with you two for a bit and then head over to Bluebonnet's."

This time it was Misty that shot a look at Stormy; it seemed like a warning of disapproval. The young mare locked eyes with her mother and then smirked defiantly.

"Sure, Verde, we'd love to have you along for a bit."

Misty let out a sigh and began clearing the dirty dishes and wrapping paper from the table.

"Speaking of which," Bluebonnet Lace took the hint, "I think it's getting time I head that way to get ready for everypony. Don't forget, you two still have to get dressed up."

"Oh... that..." Stormy said.

As the others departed, Mestra followed Stormy into the bedroom. Laying across the bed were the two costumes that Misty possessed which would best fit. The larger was in the form of a rabbit, while the smaller, which showed signs of modification to make it larger and repair damage, was that of a carrot. Stormy helped Mestra into the bunny costume, which was a better fit for the forgotten mare.

Looking in the mirror, Mestra thought she looked at least as ridiculous as her friend, though the reddened expression on Stormy's face was an indication that she might have disagreed. While Mestra didn't always have social context to know when she should be embarrassed, she was, in this case, able to easily tell from Stormy's mood that it might be an appropriate reaction to being dressed as a carrot. It made Mestra glad that she was a little larger and better suited to be the bunny, even if the brown color of the fabric was not entirely complimentary.

As the pair emerged, Verdant Thicket and Misty were waiting for them. She stopped cleaning long enough to take in the sight of the pair. A grin was forming on the young stallion's face.

"Not one word, Verde," Stormy seethed.

He put a hoof over his mouth to prevent any vocalizations from escaping.

"Don't be like that," Misty said, "I think you two are a cute pair!"

Stormy made a low growl. Mestra was uncertain whether she should be concerned, but her friend forced a smile and walked to the door, turning to face Mestra.

"Are you coming?"

"Ah!" the forgotten mare again became excited at the promise of candy.

The costumed couple, with Verdant Thicket trailing close behind, left the house and entered the night. The neighborhood had been transformed into quite a spooky place, with eerie green lights casting shadows across the houses and few trees that were growing in yards. Bands of costumed foals ran to and fro, boldly approaching and knocking on doors with a chant.

"Nightmare night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!"

Mestra was growing more excited by the second as the party made their way to the town square. Stormy had suggested they go directly there, as the games and decorations were always the best, and the quality of the candy would also be much higher. After all, Stormy had argued, they only had so much space in their buckets.

The very air felt alive with electricity as Mestra continued forward, blending in quite well she thought, with everypony else that was out and about. Nothing could have prepared the forgotten mare for the ecstasy of unbridled avarice that she beheld when they reached the square. A mass of ponies and foals milled about. Some played games, others told stories, but all had hordes of delectable sugared morsels.

Mestra's hooves began stamping in place all on their own as she turned to Stormy, "Mestra want! Want! Want candy!"

"Take it easy!" Stormy let out a giggle, "Follow me."

They approached a house that had an old oak tree in the front yard. Mestra remembered it from the first day that Stormy had taken her to search for her family, an endeavor that had proven fruitless thus far. The forgotten mare pushed those disappointments from her mind as she licked her lips, salivating at the promise of coming sweetness.

Stormy knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal an older stallion covered in a long black cape, of which the interior was lined in red. His mane was slicked back flat against his head. He waited a moment expectantly. Stormy nudged Mestra, who then remembered the chant.

"Nightmare... night! The... fright... give the... sweet to bite!"

He made a smile, revealing elongated and sharp vampire teeth. The stallion lifted a small container to the pair. Stormy held up her candy bucket, prompting Mestra to do the same. Several pieces of candy were dropped into them. The forgotten mare felt her jaw drop in disbelief.

Even though both Stormy and Misty had both affirmed that this would happen, she had never completely trusted the veracity of their claims. When she'd been living with her magister, she would at most have been given one piece of candy, perhaps two on rare occasions.

"Thank you!" Mestra gushed, eliciting a laugh from the stallion.

As they turned and walked back to Verdant Thicket, who had waited by the road, Mestra dug into her bucket, trying in vain to identify the various types of candies that she had gained. There were five in total, all of which were hard like the toffees with which she was familiar. Some of them bore differing colors within the clear wrappings.

She looked back to Stormy, who had a joyous smirk on her face, "Mestra like!"

"Do you want more?"

"More? Mestra get more?"

The smirk widened into a grin, "Of course! Just about every house you come to will give you at least that much."

Mestra felt her own eyes widen with delight to the size of saucers, "Ah!"

Verdant Thicket and Stormy laughed. The other two were walking far too slowly for the now overexcited mare to wait, and Misty's arrival brought them to a halt briefly as she spoke with Stormy. Unable to stay herself, Mestra left the others and charged ahead behind a group of colts and fillies, joining them in their chant at the next house, this one decorated with spiderwebs and other ghoulish adornments. They received marshmallow treats made of puffed rice and drizzled with chocolate. As much as Mestra wanted to dive into her little cache, there were still dozens of houses in the square, and she still had plenty of room in her bucket.

At the next house, the forgotten mare had to walk past an inflatable effigy of Nightmare Moon. It was surprisingly lifelike for how large it stood, making her take a wide course around it. Upon receipt of fare from this house, the chorus of little ones seemed disappointed, and Mestra herself felt almost cheated when they dropped a fresh carrot into her possession. She examined it as she walked, wondering why such a lackluster offering would be made. She looked up too late to realize how close she had come to the Nightmare Moon sentry. She was just about to back away when a figure sprang from behind it with a loud roar.

The gaggle of foals scattered in all directions, and Mestra herself fell to the ground, tripping over her own hooves and landing flat on her back, her little butterflies vaulting into the air just in time. Scrambling backward with her eyes shut, Mestra's ears picked up laughing even over the sound of her own frightful scream. Her heart raced as she summoned the strength to look up.

Verdant Thicket stood near the inflatable Nightmare Moon, cackling at the prank he'd played on the hapless group. Mestra was about to say something, but found herself unable to do so, succumbing to a violent fit of hiccups instead. She wanted to laugh, but tears came out instead. Stormy charged into the yard like an angry bull, blowing by the frightful figure, rage emblazoned across her face.

"Verdant Thicket, you ass!" she lashed out with a jab, striking the stallion on his shoulder. Turning to her prone friend, her expression softened, "Mestra, are you okay?"

"A-" she hiccuped, "ah."

Verdant Thicket let out something like a giggle and mumbled a half-hearted apology, "I was just fooling around. It's Nightmare Night. Also, you hit pretty hard for a carrot."

Stormy shot him an infuriated look. Without another word passing between them, the stallion shrugged and left.

"Come on, let's get your candy picked up and back into your bucket," Stormy said with a forced smile.

It didn't take them long to get Mestra sorted out, but the hiccups continued for quite a while. After getting candy from a few more houses, they played a few games, attempting to toss fake spiders onto webs and bobbing for apples, but the forgotten mare was so excited to get into her candy that her heart wasn't in the games.

Stormy took her to make a customary sacrifice to the Nightmare Moon statue, this one a wooden carving, that had been set up near the school house. The pair then returned home, ready to feast upon the gratuitous bounty of sweets that they had obtained.


	12. Chapter XII

_**Chapter XII**_

Mestra Amymone's head was swimming from the assault of knowledge that had bombarded her over the previous few hours. She walked alongside Stormy, who was saying goodbye to her friends.

"I think things are going well," the dark mare declared.

Mestra returned a bewildered look.

Stormy regarded the expression, "I take it you didn't enjoy the lesson today."

The forgotten mare lowered her head and continued to put one hoof in front of the other.

"Your grammar is really improving. That's a great start," Stormy added hopefully.

"Why would... use... for... for..." a frustrated question was forming.

"Why would you use what?" Stormy aided.

"Circum... conference?"

"Circumference?"

"Ah!" Mestra affirmed.

The swimming feeling in her head was beginning to ache a bit.

"Well, if you needed to know how far around a circle was, but you couldn't measure it."

"Why no can measure?"

Stormy thought a moment, "Maybe it's too big? If you had a really big fence, or a town that was round, it would be really difficult to measure that. Much easier to measure the distance from the center to one end and then use pi."

"Mestra hate pi."

"I think pie is delicious!" Stormy jested.

Mestra tilted her head to one side, clearly not understanding the pun.

"Forget it," Stormy shrugged.

The conversation was interrupted by an orange stallion approaching from behind. Mestra had seen him at school. His brown mane sort of danced on his face as he walked, nearly obscuring his teal eyes. As he passed, he glanced at Stormy and then Mestra in turn. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again, making something like a humming noise.

"Hi, Burble," Stormy said as he quickened his pace, speeding away from the pair without making any answer.

The forgotten mare stopped in her tracks, bringing Stormy to a halt as well.

"What he does that for?"

"Him? He's harmless," Stormy explained. "His name is Burlap Yarn Ball. I think his parents are sack makers or something. He's always been a little strange, but he means well."

"But Stormy said... Bur... bull?"

"Burble, yeah. It's sort of a nickname he's had since... I can't even remember how long. Probably from our first year of school. I only found out his full name when his parents invited the entire class over for his cuteseñeara... Only three of us went..."

Stormy looked as though she felt bad for the stallion. Mestra didn't know that much of those sorts of social gatherings, as she had only attended one birthday party. She concluded that for almost nopony to show up when they had all been invited would not be a good thing.

"Come on. We'd best get moving if we don't want to be late."

"Ah!"

The pair cantered to their next destination. Stormy had told Mestra that the pay wasn't great at the berry patch on the first day, but the forgotten mare still had not quite grasped the concept of the value of labor. Money was much easier to understand as the trading of bits for goods was fairly straightforward. Misty had attempted to explain skills and scarcity, but everypony knew Mestra hadn't understood. The mystery of why one job would arbitrarily have 'better pay' than another... she was still working to understand.

They toiled the sunny afternoon away, loading up their buckets with berries, and restraining themselves from sampling too many of them. The sun was moving low on the horizon when they turned in their cargo and received their pay. Mestra's muscles ached from the effort, but she soon became excited.

Each evening after work, Stormy would take Mestra down another row of houses in town. Each time they would ask the same question: do you recognize this pony? So far, none had known the forgotten mare. It wouldn't be long before they would have searched the entire town, and Mestra Amymone was certain that either family or friends would soon be found. What would happen afterward was anypony's guess.

Several houses were checked, with the usual results. Some thought they were selling cookies, while others seemed generally confused. Some took a long hard look, searching their memories intently, but all had the same result. No pony seemed to remember seeing her before she came to town and took up residence with Misty and Stormy.

They arrived at the end of their course as the sun was setting. The last house stood apart from the others. The yard was somewhat overgrown behind an iron fence. The pair walked a narrow path which led to the door. Stormy knocked.

A shuffling was heard inside, and then hoofsteps against the floor. Teal eyes met them as Burble opened the door. His expression, initially one of slight curiosity became as one who had been petrified by fear. Mestra instinctively looked behind her, uncertain as to whether she should also be afraid.

"Oh, hi, Burble," Stormy greeted.

The young stallion mumbled a reply that Mestra couldn't understand.

Stormy forced a smile. Though not overly skilled in social graces, Mestra felt certain that the situation had become awkward.

"Hullo," Burble finally managed.

"Are your parents home?" Stormy asked.

He nodded, but otherwise didn't move.

The forgotten mare decided that she would try, "Mestra are looking for ponies... who remember... Mestra."

A look of confusion twisted Burble's face, but he said nothing.

"She lost her memory," Stormy added. "So we've been going from house to house to see if anyone knows her. I didn't expect you would, or you'd have said something in class."

Burble nodded and then rather unceremoniously turned and trotted away, leaving the door ajar. Stormy and Mestra exchanged a glance.

"What happen?"

Stormy shrugged, "You've got me. It's almost as if..."

The darker coated mare didn't finish, but it seemed as though a light of recognition filled her eyes. Before Mestra could ask what her friend was thinking, Burble's parents arrived at the door.

It was the same as all of the other houses. They looked her over, faces contorted in thought, but they eventually shrugged and apologized that they couldn't help. No pony had yet remembered Mestra Amymone from before. She felt her shoulders slump a little as they walked back to Stormy's house. She'd had high hopes that the search would have been easily completed, but the weeks had stretched into months. The lack of answers was beginning to feel like lowering clouds were hanging over her head.

"Welcome home," Misty greeted the pair cordially. Her searching eyes assessed them up in a moment as she added, "Stormy, would you set the table. Mestra, if you don't mind, I could use some help in the kitchen."

"Ah," she replied.

They prepared the food in relative silence: an arugula salad dressed in a vinaigrette with apple wedges, a side of fresh hay, and a cranberry tart for dessert. Mestra could feel her mouth beginning to water as her stomach began complaining. As they finished getting everything put on the table, Stormy was straightening up the kitchen.

"You seem a bit down," Misty observed.

Mestra shrugged at her, not particularly wanting to talk about her disappointment. The elder mare held the forgotten in her gaze as the butterflies danced above the table.

"Sometimes it helps to talk about it when something is bothering you."

Mestra simply shrugged a second time.

"Well, just know that anything you need, I'm here for you."

"Me too!" Stormy declared as she entered the room.

The forgotten mare felt a warmth fill her from within, countering the sadness. Even though she hadn't yet found any trace of her past, it was a comfort to have made new friends. It had all but erased the loneliness she'd felt after her magister had died.

She found sleep much more easily that night, and the next morning she renewed her resolve to continue on, starting with more school. Her morning grammar studies notwithstanding, the lessons most days were a bit more advanced than Mestra could handle, so she ended up sitting in the corner and reading one of her books that she had brought with her. This one was about nature and the cycles of life and water that occurred in the world. The mare was amazed how the Pegasi would use a tornado as a waterspout to get moisture up into the air in preparation for coming precipitation.

"Ahem," a stallion cleared his throat.

Having been lost in her book, Mestra was a little surprised to see Burble standing so close. Everypony else was sort of milling about as if class were over. Stormy was talking to Bluebonnet Lace, but the stallion was staring directly at the forgotten mare.

"Ah?" she asked.

Sort of shrinking back and gaining the lightest red hue to his face, Burble mumbled something. But for his lips moving, Mestra wouldn't have known he had attempted to speak at all.

"Ah?... er... What?"

His visage becoming bright crimson, the stallion muttered a second time some inaudible message.

"Mestra sorry... Mestra no hear."

The stallion's pupils and irises shrank, leaving large whites of his eyes as he opened his mouth, an ear-splitting shout escaping, "DO YOU WANT TO GO TO THE FALL FESTIVAL WITH ME!"

A shiver of fear gripped Mestra as she dropped her book, scrambling backward as quickly as she was able, spilling from her chair. Silence had fallen over everypony else. The little butterflies left their perch on the mare's back and zipped through the air, directly at Burble's reddening face. He bolted away, dodging what otherwise might have been an ineffectual attack.

Laughter erupted from the other students as the stallion galloped from the building. Mestra's heart raced as Stormy helped her up.

"Are you okay?"

"Ah," Mestra nodded, her heart still pounding.

The rest of the class took up a chant, "Mestra and Burble, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Burble pushing a new foal's carriage!"

The sound of their tone more than the words sang made the forgotten mare's face flush. She wasn't accustomed to being teased, even though Verdant Thicket had soundly introduced her to the concept.

"Hey!" Stormy shouted over them, "Knock it off!"

The group as one blew kisses at Stormy. She simply waved them off. Mestra also felt the need to run away, not to follow Burble, but emotions were churning inside that she did need to sort out. Stormy followed her lead but wouldn't let her flee, and the pair walked out of the classroom with what dignity they had left, the quartet of glowing butterflies following behind.

"Are you okay?" Stormy asked a second time once they had gained some distance from the school.

"Ah... Mestra fell not far."

Stormy stopped, commanding Mestra's gaze, "I didn't mean from the fall."

The forgotten mare shifted uneasily, looking to her butterflies. They had assumed a flight pattern making a wide circle around Mestra. It comforted her, but she didn't receive any answers from them. Stormy had a fiery brightness to her eyes, but there was something else: concern.

Mestra squirmed and shrugged, unsure what she would say.

Stormy gave what passed for a smile, "Well, if anypony bothers you, you can tell me about it. I'll help if I can."

The words did make the embarrassed mare feel better.

"Ah!" she nodded.

They continued on in silence until they arrived for their afternoon job picking berries. The work was easy but tedious. Mestra several times caught Stormy looking at her, as if something were on her mind. She had considered asking about it when Stormy broke their silence.

"So, Mestra, I had seen Burble over there with you before... well, before his outburst. Did he say anything else?"

"Uh," she shook her head, feeling uncertain as to where this question might lead.

"Well, I guess... I mean, I saw you didn't have a chance to answer him after that. So, what are you going to do?"

"Ah?"

"He asked you to the festival."

Mestra tilted her head to one side questioningly.

Stormy's brow furrowed, "You have no idea what that means, do you?"

The forgotten mare shook her head. Her butterflies lost their perch and flitted about, eventually settling down on her hindquarters.

"Okay, this is going to take some explaining," Stormy began with a sigh. "When two ponies like each other, they spend time together. So, when you get asked to go somewhere, you know, on a date, it's a good thing."

"Mestra do not know what is a date."

"Erm, well, kind of like an appointment, but for fun."

"Ron... ron... duh..."

"Rendezvous, yes. Where two ponies meet up at a pre-arranged time and place."

"Like Mestra and Stormy meet... to work."

"No, no, not like that."

"Spend time together. Stormy do not like Mestra?"

Stormy began to look a little flustered, but she took a breath, "It's a little different. I mean, of course I like you, but he might like you, like you." Seeing no change, she continued, "So, there's liking and liking... they're not the same thing."

"Ah?"

"When a stallion and a mare like each other... it's... different. Have you not even heard of romance?"

"Ah! Is where foals come from. Magister told me so."

Stormy's face turned a bright shade of red, if possible, even more so than had Burble's, "Not so loud!"

Mestra looked around, but seeing no pony else nearby, she turned back to Stormy.

The other took a breath, "Ultimately, yes if all goes well, and the stallion and mare both really like each other, that can happen."

"Ah, Mestra not need foals. Mestra not go... date."

"But that's not why you go on a date. I guess it's kind of like a journey. If you go all the way down the path, then foals can come, but the date is sort of the first steps in that direction, so there's plenty of time to... well, to get off that path if you don't like who you're traveling with."

"So, go date... get know... Burble?"

"If you want to, yes. For him to ask means he already likes you."

Mestra felt her face flush.

"Oh my Celestia! Do you like him?"

Mestra shrugged, feeling somewhat uncomfortable but unsure what to do. Stormy thought quietly for a while as the pair continued their work. She eventually made one final attempt.

"Mestra, if nothing else I think the experience would be good for you, and I was thinking about going anyway. There's a few days before you have to decide. I guess I just want you know that I can be there for you."

Mestra considered the complication to her routine. The deviation from their daily disappointment did sound nice.

"Also, you could always tell Burble that you would go as just a friend. That way you wouldn't have to worry about the romance," Stormy added with a wink.

Mestra felt herself smile, "Stormy be there... Mestra go."

A grin crawled across Stormy's face, "Oh this is going to be so much fun! We can get dresses and we'll have to get our mane's done. First, we need to tell Burble that you accept. We can do that tonight."

The forgotten mare felt mostly pleased with her decision. However, it was Stormy's reaction that gave her pause. The darker mare was so uncharacteristically exuberant that it made Mestra wonder to what she had actually agreed.


	13. Chapter XIII

_**Chapter XIII**_

The forgotten mare gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She detected a slight nervousness in her otherwise bright blue eyes. The salmon color of her mane, normally flowing somewhat straight, had been coiled into ribbon-like spirals that danced cheerfully when she moved. Most of them were bound up toward the back, but three hung loose, sometimes getting in her eyes.

The makeup that had been applied brought a border to her eyes, accentuating the lashes and making an almost catlike appearance at the corners. Rouge on her cheeks and deep red paste on her lips completed the work.

The dress she wore was somewhat cumbersome, but it did allow for movement well enough. It was of a light blue linen, a bit darker than the sky, but it complimented her eyes. There were white lacy frills at the collar and foreleg cuffs. She thought she looked not unlike a cupcake.

Stormy was similarly made-up mane and all, although her dress lacked the lacy frills. It was red, having only short sleeves on the forelegs, and it didn't grow so large toward the flank as did Mestra's. While she thought her own appearance was rather silly, the forgotten mare was amazed at how her friend was transformed. Normally somewhat boisterous, Stormy seemed quite elegant in spite of the simplicity of her gown.

Turning to Mestra, Stormy smiled, "Are you ready?"

"Ah..."

The forgotten mare forced a smile of her own, but truly she felt nervous. Her butterflies landed atop her coiled mane, able to gain their perch even more easily than usual. The pair exited the restroom and found Misty in the entryway, waiting for them. Mestra would have sworn there were tears in her eyes for a moment for how they glistened.

"Oh my... you two are so beautiful!" the elder mare beamed proudly.

She gave to each of them a flower that matched their dresses. Stormy had explained that they were for the stallions who would be escorting them. Mestra couldn't help but feel strange. It was as if her butterflies were flitting about within her belly.

A knock at the door wrested Mestra from her nervousness. Misty welcomed Burble and Verdant Thicket into the home. They were dressed in black suits and white shirts, mainly standing apart in their neck ties.

The style of their suits were also noticeably different. Burble's had a larger weave. Fraying was evident at the knees and one of the shoulder joints. His tie showed similar distress in its faded dark green coloring.

Verdant Thicket's suit looked pressed and new with sharp creases running down every length. His neck sported a mustard colored bow tie, and golden links secured his cuffs in effigy of alicorns with emerald eyes.

At the sight of Mestra, Burble seemed paralyzed for a moment. She wondered whether he would run away as he had the day he'd asked her to come, but he held his ground this time.

"Are you two just going to stand there?" Stormy goaded.

The more finely dressed stallion replied, "Sorry about that. I think I speak for both of us when I say that we weren't quite prepared for how lovely you two mares look tonight."

Mestra and Stormy placed their flowers in their respective dates' lapels as they had practiced. Misty returned with a camera.

"I need a photo before you go!"

"We're going to be late!" Her daughter groaned.

"Stormy Nocturne! It isn't every day my baby girl gets asked to a Fall Festival. You will humor your mother!"

Mestra felt herself instinctively stand more rigidly at the use of Stormy's full name. In her experience, it always meant trouble. This time, however, Misty Fairweather's tone seemed uncharacteristically playful.

The three others gathered close. A look from Stormy spurred Mestra into joining them, standing in the center with her friend, the stallions standing on either side by their respective dates.

"Alright, on three."

Misty took aim and counted, the others all saying, "Peas!" in unison.

Before she could ask why they'd said 'peas', a flash blinded Mestra. She staggered backward, blinking against the brightness, and her butterflies scattered, eventually returning and taking up residence on her flank. Misty frowned.

"Just one more, dear. Mestra, it is customary to smile for a photograph. You looked almost frightened."

"Ah? A... again?"

Misty smiled, "One more, and say 'peas' on three."

The elder mare counted again, and this time Mestra was ready and smiled with the others. The flash was as bright as the first time, and the forgotten mare could see a distinctively off-colored spot in her vision.

"Okay, got it, let's go!" Stormy said quickly.

As Mestra and the stallions exited, Misty caught Stormy and whispered something to her. Stormy nodded and rolled her eyes, continuing on. Tears of pride welled up in Misty's eyes as she looked after them for a long moment before shutting the door.

Stormy and Verdant Thicket seemed excited by the coming festivities, though Burble was much more reserved. Mestra herself was uncertain how to feel, but settled on nervous as still being the predominant mood.

As they reached the edge of town, they came to the pumpkin patch, which had been quite extensively decorated in a rustic way which was common in Hollow Shades, but it felt appropriate. Hay bales served as tables, and displays of raw pumpkins, squash, and other vegetables which Mestra could not identify served as centerpieces.

Ropes had been strung overhead with numerous firefly lanterns hanging along them. Their soft glow provided a cozy illumination to the grounds. A stage had been set up at one end and was more brightly illuminated. A duo expertly wielded banjo and harmonica and wove blissful folk music to complete the ambiance.

In front of the stage, the area had been well flattened to serve as a dance floor. In the center, where the overhead ropes converged, was a buffet with a veritable plethora of savory and sweet delicacies.

It looked as though half the town had come out, mostly the younger stallions with their special someponies. Most, Mestra soon noticed, were dressed far more elegantly than were she, Burble, and Stormy, but Verdant Thicket seemed to blend in quite nicely.

"Come on!" Stormy led the way.

The group followed her directly to the dance floor. Stormy and Verdant Thicket took to the swaying and gyrating quite naturally. Mestra felt a lump form in her throat as she realized that she had no idea what to do.

Her gaze fell upon Burble. He managed what passed for a smile, though his eyes betrayed the fear within. He began to mumble something inaudible, but then stopped and took a breath.

"Have you ever danced before?"

Mestra shook her head, too nervous to even attempt words. The basic lessons that Stormy and Misty had given her on dancing were suddenly lost from her mind.

"Oh, I see... well, I haven't really... I mean... not really..." he stammered. Mustering what courage he was able, he extended a hoof and said, "Just... follow my lead... I guess..."

Keeping an eye on Stormy and Verdant Thicket, Mestra stepped toward Burble and assumed a similar pose. As they began moving to the music, her attention darted between the other pair and her own hooves, trying to keep in step with her date. It was a exercise in futility.

Try though she might, Mestra simply couldn't predict where Burble would step next, and found herself going the wrong direction as much as not. After the third time she stepped on him, they stopped.

"It's okay, we can try again," the stallion said sweetly as if he had detected the embarrassment that Mestra felt. "Don't look at them this time. Just focus on how we are moving."

She locked her eyes with his, moving rather clumsily with the music. Looking down at his hooves, she thought she had figured out the pattern. As she looked back up, Mestra saw stars for a moment as a sharp pain snaked from her head through her body as her crown connected with Burble's chin. Falling down onto her knees, it took the mare a moment to realized what had happened.

Burble was lying flat on his back just in front of her. Before she could decide on a course of action, Stormy was there to help.

"Are you okay?"

"Ah," Mestra said as she mussed her own hair to sooth her scalp.

Burble sat up, seeming somewhat groggy at first, but it soon gave way to alertness as his face flushed.

"I'll bet you two are hungry, huh?" Stormy changed the subject as they all got back to their hooves.

"Yeah, that's... sure..." Burble said.

Pointing, she continued, "How about you two stake our claim at that hay bale, and Verde and I will get some punch and maybe some of those cakes from the buffet."

"Ah."

The concussed pair made their way to the appointed place and waited in silence. Burble seemed as though he wanted to speak, but he didn't say anything until Verdant Thicket arrived with punch.

"Here you go, drink up," he said.

Mestra took a sip and found the bright orange liquid to be pumpkin flavored and wonderfully sweet. She unceremoniously gulped down the rest of it. Her throat tingled, almost with a slight warmth as it went down.

Verdant Thicket laughed, "Easy there. You don't want to fill up on punch."

"Ah... more?"

He grinned, "Why not?"

Walking away, he left the pair to themselves again for a moment.

Burble sort of shrugged and offered, "Sorry I'm not a good dancer."

"Is... oh... oh... is fine. Mestra have never dance."

Stormy arrived with several tiny plates that were loaded with samples from the buffet. Butternut squash bars, miniature pumpkin pies, as well as assorted less noteworthy items filled their plates.

"I forgot napkins!" Stormy chided herself. "I'll be right back."

Verdant Thicket returned with an entire tray laden with cups of punch. Mestra's mouth watered in anticipation as she took her second serving.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Verdant Thicket directed at the mare.

"Uh," she replied, indulging in the sweetness.

"She just hasn't had enough practice is all," Burble said.

Verdant Thicket took one of the tiny pumpkin pies and bit half of it off. He seemed to approve. Mestra felt her head swimming ever so slightly and concluded that she had bumped it harder than she'd thought. She took another drink of punch.

Burble dug into the the softer foods, still seeming somewhat nervous and nursing his chin.

"Try something. It's all really good," Verdant Thicket enticed.

Mestra decided to stick with her punch, "Uh."

"Do... well... do you like Hollow Shades?" Burble directed his question at the forgotten mare.

"Ah... is... nice. Mestra have not be in... other city."

"Me neither."

"I'm not sure if Hollow Shades qualifies as a city," Verdant Thicket interjected. "Once you've seen Manehattan or Canterlot, you realize just how small we are up here."

"Big like Crystal Empire?"

"You've been to the Crystal Empire?" Burble asked in amazement.

"Uh... was not... had being there."

"That place is just an old pony tale!" Verdant Thicket scoffed.

The mare was offended and sprang to her deceased mentor's defense, "Mestra told about from Magister... Magister from Crystal Empire... He told Mestra so!"

Verdant Thicket snorted.

"I read a book of old myths once. It said the Crystal Empire vanished hundreds of years ago."

"Ah... evil king... bad things..."

Verdant Thicket rolled his eyes. Mestra took another draft of her punch. She was coming to the conclusion that she didn't like that stallion. Burble's curiosity was somewhat more palatable, so she directed her attention back to him.

"Magister... not could stop king... not there when... when van... van..."

"Vanished," Burble assisted.

"Ah..."

The mare felt pleased but also strange as Stormy returned with napkins. Her head felt light, making her somewhat giddy. Her stomach also made some strange motions, as though it were doing somersaults.

The musicians went silent and a different group came into the stage. It was a quartet of guitarists that had a propensity for harmonies in their vocal undulations.

"What'd I miss?" Stormy asked.

"Nothing much," her date replied.

"We were dishcushing the Cryshtal Empire," Burble slurred.

Stormy laughed, "What?"

"Cryshtal..." Mestra hiccuped, "Em... Emfire..." she felt herself giggle at the sound of her own voice.

Stormy looked confused as Mestra finished another cup of punch. They would have to get more soon.

"Pretty cryshtals... and... and... poniesh..." the forgotten mare hiccuped again.

"Pretty cryshtals," Burble teetered, but his eyes were fixed on Mestra.

She returned his gaze, unafraid. Her face felt hot.

"Pretty... pretty... You're pretty," he said with a sigh.

Mestra giggled.

"Hold on a second! What is happening?" Stormy demanded.

Laughter rang from Verdant Thicket. Stormy turned to him.

"What did you do?"

He shrugged, "Have you tried the punch?"

Stormy took a cup and sampled the sweet deliciousness as Mestra grabbed at the last one. She felt good. Burble closed the distance between them, standing close to his date. Stormy spit out the drink.

"Are you crazy? You can't give her spiked punch!"

"I told her to take it easy," he replied with a smug grin.

Stormy shouted back at him, "She doesn't know any better! What were you thinking?"

She walked around the hay bale, not stopping until she had pushed Burble backward. He staggered but caught his balance.

"I'll deal with you two later!" she spoke hotly, "Mestra! We're going home!"

"Come on," Verdant Thicket objected, "it's not like I did it to them on purpose. I spiked the entire batch. It's not my fault they can't handle it."

"Yes it is!"

She grabbed Mestra's foreleg and pulled her from the table. Confused as she was by the turn of events, the forgotten mare attempted to follow Stormy, but the ground shifted as though it were made of water, and the next thing she knew, Mestra Amymone had unceremoniously planted her face in the dirt.

Verdant Thicket stooped down, helping Stormy get Mestra up, "What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal!" rage contorted Stormy's expression. "The fact that you don't think it's a big deal is most of the problem!"

He shrugged, "We all have too much to drink sometimes. It happens."

Stormy reach around Mestra, pushing the stallion away, "Verdant Thicket, we are finished!"

"But-" he closed the distance.

"Done! Quit! Broken up! Go do whatever you want, because I don't care!" she shoved him backward a second time.

Stormy and Mestra walked away as Verdant Thicket's objections to their departure grew louder behind them. Mestra wanted to run back and slap him, though she wasn't sure why. She was, however, unable to do so, presently finding walking unaided far too challenging to accomplish.

Stormy mumbled fiery words as the pair left the festival and headed back home. Mestra began to be concerned that Stormy was mad at her. She tried to apologize, but the timing was poorly chosen.

Her stomach twinged, and before she could stop it, she retched, and all of its contents showered Stormy's red dress. She instinctively backed away, and Mestra stumbled. Picking herself up, she vomited a second time.

"Great; that's just great!" Stormy fumed.

Looking back up at her irate friend, the forgotten mare said, "Mestra... feel better."

"By Celestia! I should hope so!"

The intoxicated mare felt wounded by her friend's outburst. She hadn't intended to throw up on her or to make her upset. Mestra burst into tears. Her butterflies, which had taken flight when she fell down, didn't attempt another landing on such a shaky target, but instead flew around nearby.

Stormy did her best to help up her inebriated friend. Through much effort, several more stumbles, and no small amount of tears, they made it back to the house. Stormy delicately set Mestra down on the cold earth as she worked the door. The forgotten mare buried her face in the well cropped grass and continued to cry, though she couldn't remember exactly what had made her so remorseful.

Stumbling into the house together, Misty wore a look of concern initially that quickly gave way to total shock.

"Nightmare Moon! What is going on here?" she demanded.

Stopping in their tracks, Stormy looked up, "Either help or get out of the way!"

"Stormy Nocturne! That is no way to speak to your mother!"

The pair shouted back and forth, mostly about Stormy's attitude and something about her dress. Mestra felt ill once again. She heaved, but there was nothing within to bring up, a condition that felt far more painful than hadn't had the vomiting.

"I didn't do this!" Stormy spoke hotly. "It was Verde and Burble who spiked the punch and gave her like six cups before I knew what had happened."

Reigning in her own anger, Misty spoke with a calm fortitude, "Clearly we have had a misunderstanding."

"You think?" Stormy snarled.

"I'm sorry for shouting when you arrived, but it doesn't matter how angry you are, you cannot speak to me that way."

Stormy growled, gritting her teeth, "I'm... sorry..."

Misty sighed, calming down, "Let's get you two cleaned up."

The bathing and getting ready for bed was somewhat of a blur. The dreamy fit that composed her sleep seemed to grow ever deeper into strange unknown worlds that would have filled a conscious mind with wonder.

Mestra awoke to a massive dull pounding in her head. Her butterflies swirled in the air above, somehow making her head hurt even worse. The shades suddenly were thrown open, letting eye stabbing sunlight in.

"Good morning."

Mestra groaned at the sound, which seemed overly loud and piercing. She worked, making it up to her hooves, but it increased the pounding in her head several times over. She was about to collapse back down on the bed, but she was caught by Stormy.

"I've got you," she said. "Let's get to the table; you can sit down there."

"Uh... much loud..." she made a shushing sound.

"Sorry," Stormy whispered. "You had a rough night... we both did."

She gave Mestra water to drink, but nopony had yet prepared breakfast, so the forgotten mare had to wait. Misty crossed the room, stopping long enough to make a sympathetic smile at Mestra, but she avoided eye contact with her daughter. She continued into the kitchen.

"Mestra," Stormy spoke in a whisper, "If it's alright with you, I want to move back into my room... with you."

The forgotten mare tilted her head to one side, which pounded from the minuscule exertion.

"I think I've been spending a little too much time close to my mom, and we're getting a bit... irritable as a result."

"Ah... Stormy stay... with Mestra."

A knocking on the door, soft though it was, nearly split the mare's head open. She grabbed it with both hooves and groaned. Stormy went to answer the tapping, sighing loudly when she saw who had arrived.

Burble stood there, still wearing his suit from the previous night, though it was quite filthy as if he had slept in mud. Heavy bags were under his eyes.

"What do you want?" Stormy demanded.

Both Mestra and Burble grabbed their heads and made shushing sounds.

"Please, not so loud," Burble begged.

Still in her normal and combative tone, Stormy continued, "I don't owe you any concessions after what you pulled last night."

"What I pulled?" his voice was cracked and hoarse.

"Yeah," she shot back incredulously, "trying to take advantage of Mestra's lack of experience. What was your plan if I hadn't been there to put a stop to it?"

He held up a hoof, "Wait... You've got it all wrong. I had no idea that Verdant Thicket had spiked the punch. There wasn't a plan, at least, not that I knew anything about."

Stormy raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Please... no yell..." Mestra mumbled as loud as she would dare.

Stormy looked back at her sympathetically. Burble noticed her and redoubled his efforts with the guard.

"Please," he whispered. "Let me apologize to Mestra."

Her hard expression wavered, and Stormy glanced back to her friend. Mestra nodded, and Stormy took a step backward, clearing the way for Burble to enter. He slowly approached the table, a pained expression on his haggard face. He looked at least as bad as the forgotten mare felt.

"Mestra," he spoke softly. "I came by to try and say how sorry I am for last night. I had no idea Verdant Thicket had messed with the drinks. I would never do anything to hurt you."

His eyes were filled with devastation.

"If there's anything I can do to make it up to you... I..." he hesitated. "I just hope... maybe we can still be friends."

It took Mestra Amymone a long moment to realize that Burble was awaiting her answer. Her butterflies swirled around his head. She looked to Stormy, who only shrugged in reply.

"Ah... um... friends," she said.

Relief flooded his eyes, and the little glowing insects returned to Mestra, landing in her mane. Even as small and delicate as they were, it felt like hammers pounding on her head. She waved them off with a groan.

"Come on," Misty said from the kitchen. "I think you two could both do with some rest and plenty of water."

"Thanks, I'm fine to make it home," Burble declined. "I'm sure my parents are worried about me."

Without further ceremony, he made his departure. Mestra certainly had much to consider after the events of the previous night, but she was glad to be able to put Burble at ease. He seemed nice enough, and she didn't want to hurt him. She did wish that Verdant Thicket had been as considerate before bringing the drinks.


	14. Chapter XIV

_**Chapter XIV**_

Mestra Amymone felt herself bristle, her mane standing on end at the base of her skull.

"Never like that," came a full voice, a little deep for a mare. "Try again."

"Yes, Miss, Acumen," she spoke slowly to ensure proper enunciation.

Stormy sat across the classroom, working on her homework from the previous day. The pair had been coming early since Miss Zenithal Acumen's invitation to help Mestra improve her language skill and Stormy with her own schooling.

The room smelled fresh with the oily scent of the well-conditioned wood floor. Her eyes wandered for a moment. She shivered from a draft, but was unable to detect from where it had come. All the doors and windows were shut. The heat from the stove in the corner did seemingly little to help, though Mestra had been in the schoolhouse on days when it was unlit, and the winter cold would have been far more piercing were that the case.

"While walking the plain, mainly does, the rain, fall, on the mane."

"Adequate," Zenithal Acumen looked down her horn-rimmed glasses at her pupil. "When would one use the subjunctive?"

"If Mestra was to guess-"

"Incorrect!" the teacher reprimanded. "One must refer to herself by the personal pronoun, 'I'. Try again."

"If I was to guess-"

"Incorrect! That is precisely where you should use the subjunctive. You should say, 'If I were to guess.'"

Mestra took a breath, swallowing the frustration that grew within, "If I, were to guess, the sub, subjunctive is for, to be used while stating something as possible, but not likely."

"Good enough. More to the point, it typically expresses what is imagined or wished."

Mestra was certain she saw Stormy smile for a moment, but Miss Acumen was quick to continue the lesson. The months of morning studies had made the forgotten mare's head hurt daily with the new facts and figures, mostly language and reading skills, with which she was bombarded. It seemed an eternity before the other students finally arrived to give her some relief.

Lessons began, and Mestra was glad to be sitting with Stormy near the front of the room and no longer drawing the direct attention of Miss Acumen. They couldn't talk to each other during class, which Mestra had discovered by drawing ire from the teacher one morning.

When they eventually conclude the lesson, the students broke into groups to work on some math problems. Stormy and Mestra sat together with Burble. The advanced mathematics was far beyond the forgotten mare's abilities, but she did get to practice on her own level. This also gave her an opportunity for less formal practice on her language skills.

A snapping sound was followed by a curse from Stormy.

"Nightmare Moon!"

Mestra looked up to see her friend's pencil lead had broken.

"Here," Mestra volunteered, "you can use mine, and I will sharpen yours."

The frustration evaporated from Stormy's expression and was replaced by a smile.

"You just made a compound sentence."

"I did?" the forgotten mare asked.

"You did!"

Burble looked up, "Didn't you do it on purpose?"

Mestra felt her face scrunch in thought, "Uh. It just happened."

Stormy giggled, "Okay then. Sharpen away!"

The pair traded pencils, and Mestra walked to the sharpener. Sitting nearby, not grouped with anyone, was Verdant Thicket. The forgotten mare had only passing interactions with him since the Fall Festival, but he seemed pleasant enough considering the things Stormy had since said about him. Those two were no longer romantically involved as a result of that incident, despite the stallion's continued efforts to win her back. For her own part, Mestra had concluded that Verdant Thicket hadn't meant her any harm but simply didn't understood how little she'd known at the time.

She began sharpening the pencil, one of her favorite classroom activities. The sound of the grinding within the box as she cranked it combined with the scent of freshly ground wood was almost magical. Her butterflies lifted from her back and fluttered about the device. The mare shivered from the chill in the air.

"Cold?" Verdant Thicket asked.

"Ah," she answered.

"Yeah, me too. I'll bet it's a little warmer where you sit, since you're closer to the stove."

"Uh, Mestra... um, I get cold over there."

"She could keep it warmer if she wanted to," he replied nonchalantly, "then we could all be comfortable."

The mare tightened her scarf, "The sweater and scarf keep Mes... keep I warm."

"Me, keep me warm."

"Ah, keep me warm."

He shrugged, "Well, you wouldn't need them in here if she'd use these."

From a pocket in his jacket, the stallion produced some chestnuts. Mestra had eaten some previously and so recognized them.

"To keep warm?"

"Yeah, they burn hot, so I'd bet this little bunch would make it nice and toasty in here."

"Why not use them?"

"I didn't think anyone else was cold, and I didn't want to heat up the whole room if it was just me. Besides, I need to finish my work," the stallion returned his attention to the mathematics assignment on his desk.

"I can do it," the mare volunteered.

"Don't you have work to do?"

She nodded, "I have time. It is a small matter."

"Nobody says it like that. Either, 'I don't mind,' or, 'it's no big deal.'"

"Ah! I don't mind."

Almost reluctantly, he held out the chestnuts. Mestra scooped them up and walked gleefully to the other end of the classroom. The metal stove was simple enough. It was made from cast iron and had a latch that kept the grilled door shut should the wood inside shift or fall.

The mare rotated the latch and opened the door, tossed in the chestnuts and closed it again, securing the lock as she did. Returning to her seat, Mestra continued working on her math.

"What took you so long?" Stormy asked.

"I was talking to Verde."

The black mare looked up, nostrils flaring in agitation. There was a question on her face, but she didn't get to ask it. A loud pop startled everypony and was followed by a shriek from those closest to the stove. Mestra's butterflies shot straight up into the air.

Pop! Bang! Pop, pop! Bang!

The explosions in the wood heater sent students scrambling away as Miss Zenithial Acumen shouted for them to move to safety in an orderly fashion. As suddenly as it began, the cacophony stopped. Mestra's heart pounded in her chest as she peeked over her desk, underneath which she had hidden. The commotion from the students was quickly silenced by the teacher.

"Well?" she asked expectantly. "Who is responsible for this disruption?"

Silence met her initially, but then a mare at the front raised her hoof. The teacher turned to her.

"I saw Mestra go up to the stove just before it happened."

As a predator's full focus comes to bear on its prey, so did Miss Zenithal Acumen trap the forgotten mare in her gaze, "Mestra Amymone!"

The forgotten mare felt her heart leap up into her throat as her name was called out by the teacher. She slowly stood, opening her mouth to explain.

"Not one word!" the teacher cut her off. "Outside, now!"

Mestra's hooves felt as though they were shod with lead. Stormy's eyes were wide with horror as her friend trudged across the room and went down the stairs and out into the frigid air. Day old snow had piled up and become a bit hard from trampling. Her butterflies managed to follow and flitted gleefully nearby, seemingly unaware of the trouble in which Mestra had found herself.

At a near panic, she wanted nothing more than to run as fast as her legs would carry her back to Misty's house. Before she was able to muster up enough courage to flee, the door shut behind her, and Zenithal Acumen was giving a harsh glare from behind her glasses. Mestra was petrified. Even her butterflies seemed to be moving in slow-motion as they glided through the air.

The elder mare breathed a deep sigh, "I have seen many odd things in my day, but this... from you?"

As much as she wanted to speak, a lump had formed in Mestra's throat, and she couldn't find her own voice.

The teacher's expression was hard as iron.

"Explain yourself," she said evenly.

Mestra's breaths were shaky, coming with great heaving effort, and she tried to summon enough air to break the lump in her throat. Her first attempt came out something like a squeak. She tried again.

"Mestra did... I did not know. He told me the chestnuts would be warm in the fire. The room... was going to be warm."

Her steely visage remained, but one eyebrow raised, "And just who told you to put the chestnuts in the fire?"

Mestra looked down at her hooves, "Verde."

"You will remain here," the elder mare said.

The forgotten mare was able to get her breath back, and her butterflies seemed to be moving as normal again. They landed on her back, burrowing into her scarf. It seemed only moments before Zenithal Acumen returned with Verdant Thicket, a look of confusion on his face.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Well what?" he asked.

"She tells me that you gave her chestnuts and said that they would make the room warmer if she threw them into the fire."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have any chestnuts."

Mestra's eyes went wide as she turned to look at Verdant Thicket. His returned gaze was cold and distant.

"You deny any knowledge of the disruption in class?"

"Of course," he answered. "She must have been either confused or lying. She's just using her bad language skills to make you think she doesn't know what she's doing."

Mestra felt a rage burn within. Strength surged into her legs, and a drive to slam into Verde and knock the passively smug grin from his face nearly overcame her. The fear of Zenithal Acumen, it turned out, was sufficient to keep Mestra's hooves firmly planted.

"Return to your seat."

Verdant Thicket went back inside, leaving the pair alone again. Mestra looked back to the teacher, tears welling up in her eyes at the betrayal.

"Miss... I did not know... I would not do that..."

The harsh gaze on Zenithal Acumen's face slowly evaporated, "Oh, I know it, dear, but I had to be certain. I can see the truth written on your face."

The forgotten mare felt lost. It was as if the teacher, whom she'd been getting to know for months was suddenly somepony else entirely.

"Mestra... not in trouble?"

A chuckle escaped the teacher, "Not for the disturbance, but that is no excuse to let your grammar slip."

Mestra felt herself stand up straighter at the gentle scolding, "Yes, ma'am!"

"I've been teaching Verdant Thicket and his brothers since the eldest first attended school. They have quite a penchant for mischief. If he goes the way of the older two, he should begin to settle down soon. For now, I'll have to keep after him."

Zenithal Acumen took a long breath, staring into Mestra's eyes, "You'd be best served to not be too close to troublemakers. Your friend, Stormy, is a good young mare, being occasionally a little rough around the edges notwithstanding. She has taken her father's death harder than she'd ever admit. That's when she started associating with Verdant Thicket. I don't think you realize just how good for her your arrival has been."

"I... good for... Stormy?

"Indeed, yes. Having someone to take care of, that needed her, it seems to have done her a world of good. Even if all you had done was show her how pernicious that young stallion can be, you'd have been a breath of fresh air."

Mestra shivered at the cold, entranced by the way Miss Acumen was speaking. She'd never seen such a soft and caring side of her before.

"What do I does... I do now?" Mestra asked.

"We will return to class. Tell nopony about our conversation until the end of the day. I'll deal with Verdant Thicket when the time comes."

Mestra returned to the warmth of the classroom. The students had settled back into their group work, but Stormy and Burble looked up immediately as the forgotten mare entered the room. Her butterflies took flight and swarmed Stormy's face, causing her to shoo them away.

"What happened? Are you in trouble?" Stormy asked as Mestra took her seat.

"It is okay. Mestra... I be... I am not in trouble."

The three went back to their studies, but the forgotten mare found herself somewhat distracted. She couldn't help but watch Zenithal Acumen with abject curiosity. She had turned out to be far different than Mestra had expected. She cared far more about her students than just teaching lessons and maintaining order in her classroom. The discovery was a pleasant surprise to be sure.


	15. Chapter XV

Chapter XV

The students were settling down before class, some soft chatter filling the air. Mestra Amymone's thoughts had wandered to her coming adventure. Disappointing as it had been to not have found any of Mestra's family in Hollow Shades, the prospect of seeing new places was somewhat alluring. As for the unknown marvels awaited her, she indulged to speculate.

"So," Burble broke the mare from her reverie, "are you really going to be leaving soon?"

She turned to him, "Ah, when spring is. I need to find family. No family in Hollow Shades."

"Oh," he looked back down to his homework from the previous day.

"But we've still got a few weeks, and I say we make the best of it!" Stormy said cheerfully.

Mestra knew Stormy well enough to understand that her apparent good humor was a facade. They had talked many times about their coming separation, and Stormy was sad about it. If she wanted to put on a happy face for Burble's sake, it would probably be best to simply play along.

The school day went without incident. As they were departing, Mestra noticed that Verdant Thicket had been chosen for classroom cleanup. Normally they would do this on an assigned schedule, but it shouldn't have been his turn for at least another week. She surmised that Miss Acumen was giving him extra turns because of the chestnut incident.

"Thanks, Burble," Stormy said as Mestra approached. "See you later!"

"Buh-bye," he replied, trotting off.

"Stormy and I to see Burble later?"

Turning to her friend, Stormy seemed a little surprised, "We... you'd say, 'Are we going to see Burble later?'"

"Ah."

"No?" Stormy sounded unsure. "I mean, yes, eventually. It's another way to say goodbye."

"Ah," Mestra nodded.

It had not yet ceased to amaze the mare how many different phrases meant similar things. It was not a mystery to her why after two years of study, her language skills were still somewhat lacking.

Mestra did not enjoy their winter job nearly so much as she had the berry picking. Shoveling walkways in front of other ponies' houses was grueling work, especially while being bitten by frigid wind. By the time they finished with the drudgery, her nose and hooves were somewhat numb in spite of the activity and clothing she wore to protect against such. The pair walked back to their house as the sun slipped below the horizon.

"So, on to the next town, huh?"

Mestra didn't feel comfortable with small talk, but she always tried to humor Stormy when she could.

"Ah..."

"I don't blame you. I've always wanted to leave Hollow Shades."

Mestra stopped, feeling confused by the statement.

"Why Stormy would want to leave?"

The dark mare shrugged, "There's a whole world out there, and I've only seen this one little town."

"Home... is home for Stormy not with family?"

"You're right. I have a home, family and friends, a place where I belong... My mom would say it is one of those quirks of life that we always want something we don't have."

The icy breeze compelled her to continue moving if for no other reason than to keep warm.

"Para..." Mestra tried to remember a word she had found in her Magister's journal, "Para-ducks?"

"Paradox?"

"Ah! Paradox is when are things opposite of their should be."

Stormy's brow furrowed a moment, "There are so many things wrong with that sentence, but the meaning is pretty accurate."

Mestra couldn't help but grin at her friend, who playfully pushed her away. They giggled a moment as they continued down the path, soon growing silent. It was as if a damp heaviness were hanging over their cheer. Becoming filled with a serious demeanor, Stormy spoke again.

"It's just not going to be the same around here without you, Mestra. I..." the young mare stopped.

Mestra turned to face her still companion, waiting as she searched for words. A glistening filled her eyes as she looked up, locking gaze with Mestra.

"You're the best friend I've ever had."

The forgotten mare felt something of a churning within her belly. She wasn't sure what to say. She had also enjoyed her time with Stormy, but the need to find her own place was strong. The thought that her own family and friends could be missing her terribly was too much to bear. Stormy sniffed, wiping her nose.

Beginning to walk again, Stormy continued speaking in a much more nonchalant tone, "Well, it's just bad timing is all. I can't leave until I finish school or my mom would have a fit. And really, you've already made sure that nopony here knows you from before, and you've put aside enough supplies to make it a couple of months on the road." She smiled, "That's not bad for a year's work."

Fresh snow began to fall as they neared their destination, prompting them to pick up their pace. Mestra shivered against the growing cold as the pair made their way up the walkway to the house. The door creaked open at Stormy's push, and the two friends entered the dark, stamping their boots against the rug to dislodge dirt and ice. Mestra shook to drop any snow that had piled onto her back, displacing her butterflies.

As the door shut, the little glowing insects were the only light. Mestra found this quite curious, as the windows always let light in, and it wasn't quite dark enough out to have so obscured the inside of the house. Additionally, Misty was normally home and had lanterns ready. Mestra was just about to ask Stormy about it when her heart leapt into her throat.

"Surprise!" a half-dozen voices shouted together.

Confetti streamed from pop guns as light flooded the room, the lanterns having been previously covered by blankets. Decorations had been strewn all over the house, making for quite a cheerful display. The smiling faces that met Mestra left her mostly confused. She then saw a banner above them that had been crudely fashioned, but the meaning was not wasted on the forgotten mare, 'Happy Birthday, Mestra!'

She looked immediately to Stormy, who had a smug grin upon her face. Clearly she had known that this gathering had been planned.

"Come in, you two!" Misty greeted them.

"Are you surprised?" Burble asked.

"Ah! Mes... I am surprised! How is this I... this my birthday? How you did know it is when?"

"Well," Stormy shrugged, "technically we don't know. But, I was talking to Miss Acumen, and she told me that the date isn't so important. So we just picked one for you."

Mestra couldn't help but smile at such a delightful way to bend the rules of the social construct so that she could fit in. A warmth spread through her chest at the thought.

It was a small gathering, but the mirth of friendship was quite abundant. They sang to her as Misty brought a cake from the kitchen, the top alight with burning candles as was tradition.

"Make a wish," said Misty.

"But you can't tell anypony or it won't come true," Burble warned.

Stormy gave a reassuring look, "It's just a tradition... there's no real magic to it."

Mestra's mind was running too quickly to formulate something that felt appropriate to wish for, but focusing upon the journey ahead, the forgotten mare knew of one thing that seemed appropriate. She closed her eyes and made a wish that she could have Stormy travel alongside her. The forgotten mare blew out her birthday candles to the cheering of the guests. Cutting through the cream cheese icing, Mestra discovered carrot cake, a delicious surprise.

"Yum!" she voiced her delight.

"Do you remember the first time you had carrot cake?"

"Ah! I come to Stormy's house for the first time. Misty gave carrot cake."

"That's right!" the dark mare affirmed.

"You are making good use of your improving language skills," Miss Zenithal Acumen praised as she took a slice of the cake. "I still think you'd be best served staying here to learn more."

"Thank you," Mestra replied. "Mes... I will learn more. I study... and practice."

"I'll hold you to that, but there is no substitute for proper tutelage. Practical application is quite useful, but you may acquire poor habits if you aren't diligent."

"I will make good habits."

Miss Acumen smiled behind her glasses.

The conversation turned toward Mestra's coming journey which led to notions of excitement and wonders that one might find on an adventure. Burble became excited at the talk of amazing stories.

"So I heard this one the other day from a town to the south. It's about a group of fillies and a colt that pulled off a stunt so amazingly stupid that it became immortalized in the town's lore and was referred to afterward in hushed whispers as, 'The Carrot Incident'."

"Come on, Mestra," Stormy spoke as though unaware Burble was only beginning a story, "it's time to open presents!"

Burble shrank back a little, but the promise of gifts was too much for the forgotten mare to ignore, and she practically squealed, leaping from her chair. Misty and Miss Acumen began bringing the wrapped offerings. Light glinted off of the sparkling paper and glittery bows as Mestra eagerly tore into them. A bit of laughter rose up at the gusto with which she ripped paper to reveal her first gift.

"That's from me," said Stormy.

Mestra opened the box to find a hat, woven of straw, dyed white. Shooing her butterflies off of her head, she put the hat on and looked at Stormy, who gave her a smile.

"It's not so much for fashion, but when summer comes, it'll keep you a bit cooler when the sun gets hot."

"Thanks!" Mestra grabbed Stormy briefly in a hug and then reached for the next gift.

It was a slightly worn book entitled, 'Delicious & Nutritious: A Field Summary to the Best Tasting Edible Wild Plants'. Mestra looked up, a little confused.

Miss Acumen explained, "My own personal copy. I traveled a fair bit before I settled down and became a teacher. That is the best guide I have ever found to have on hoof if you are living off of the land for a few weeks."

Mestra gave her a grin.

"I know it's not so fun or exciting," Zenithal Acumen added, "but I hope you'll find it useful. I have left notes on several of the varieties listed."

"Thank you!"

Given to her next was a small package, a square box. Mestra undid the crude wrapping and opened the container, discovering two items inside: a folded paper with Equestria drawn in a moderate amount of detail, the other a silver round casing held a northward pointing needle.

"That one's from me," Burble mumbled.

"It is a map!" she smiled at him. "And a compass."

"I thought that you could cross off where you've been, and maybe you can find towns a little more easily. Also, I marked Hollow Shades so it is easy to find, just in case... if you ever wanted..." he began to blush lightly as he stopped talking.

Mestra would have filled the silence, but there was no need, as Misty brought forth a final gift, "This one, we all contributed in part, but I picked it out."

Savagely ripping her way into the box led Mestra to discover a new set of blue saddle bags.

"Pretty! Is Mes... my favorite color!"

Misty smiled, "We thought you'd need a better way to carry your things than tying them up on your back. Now you have a place to store your winter clothes and keep some provisions while you travel."

"Thank all of you!" Mestra grabbed Stormy in another hug.

The forgotten mare was a bit overwhelmed with glee. The thoughtfulness of the gifts and the party had put a grin on her face that it seemed might be a permanent resident.

In spite of the fact that each of her friends had in turn asked her to stay in Hollow Shades, they had given her gifts that would no doubt aid her on her journey. She was truly lucky to have made such good friends.


	16. Chapter XVI

Chapter XVI

Mestra Amymone sat on a stone bench in the town graveyard. Slushy old snow gradually melted, a harbinger of the end of the season and much anticipated 'winter wrap up', for which the entire town was in preparation. The cold seemed to have lost its teeth; the mare loosened her scarf.

The frigid granite on which the mare sat seemed appropriate. There was a singularly solemn feeling, not unlike where she'd buried her magister when the time had come. Going there, to that resting place, made Mestra feel a little closer to her mentor. Memories became vivid, and she could almost hear his voice as she drew a book from her new saddle bags.

Her glowing butterflies danced around the cover, eventually darting off to play in the brilliant sunshine that ignited snow covered tombstones in its warmth. The mare opened the journal to a marked page which she had read many times, but it always gave her comfort, renewed her focus, to see the passage again.

Her eyes scanned the final message her magister had written, "Mestra, it is my hope that you will find this after I am gone. The things I have been teaching you were to prepare you for the greatest adventure that could lie ahead: your life..."

"I don't know your path forward. But consider one thing. Before you became forgotten, you were somepony else. You had family, friends, an entire other life before you met me. Clearly it was a life that had some great sorrows, but perhaps there was love there as well. You may have family that misses you as you now miss me..."

"Whatever you choose, do an old stallion proud, and remember the things that I taught you. Remember the good times. Remember the sad times. Unpleasant though they are, you can learn so much from them that they are an invaluable source of wisdom. You can overcome because you are strong. Farewell, Mestra Amymone, in all your journeys. Magister Pyxidis."

Sorrow filled the mare's eyes as she remembered the time she'd spent in that cabin with the old unicorn. She ached to return there, but felt herself sigh at the realization of such folly. It wasn't the cabin or the woods that she missed. That for which she languished could no longer be found.

Hearing the crunching of snow, Mestra was drawn from her reverie and looked up to see Misty approaching.

"Hello," the elder mare greeted warmly.

"Hi."

"Enjoying the sunshine?"

"Ah."

"I see. I am heading to the market to pick up a few things. I could use your help and certainly wouldn't mind the company, if you're not busy, that is."

Mestra stood, replacing the book into her bag, "I am not. I will come shopping."

Misty looked somberly past the forgotten mare across the graves. With something that passed for a smile, she turned and began walking toward town. Mestra followed. They strode in silence until they had left the graveyard.

"I see you still like to visit the cemetery," Misty spoke idly.

"Ah."

It took Mestra a moment to remember the lessons which Stormy had given her on 'small talk'.

"I like the s... the quiet."

Misty nodded, humming to herself, "It always feels lonely to me, and sad."

"Ah," the mare replied, "That is when I remember Magister the best."

A pained smile crossed Misty's muzzle, "I understand."

They continued walking as a silence fell between the pair, the steady rhythm of their hoofbeats notwithstanding. Misty's every step seemed heavy and deliberate.

At the market, the older mare seemed to become more her usual self as they picked out choice shallots, chard, peas, and asparagus. They also picked up flour and a few essential toiletries.

Once loaded, the two made their course toward the house. Misty seemed to grow contemplative again before eventually breaking the quiet.

"Would I be correct in assuming that your plans have not changed?"

Mestra nodded. She wasn't entirely certain as to why, but thoughts of the future had been making her sad of late.

"I will leave tomorrow."

"To continue your search?"

"Ah."

The elder mare's gaze dropped to her front hooves as they plodded along. Her pace slowed as they approached the bridge. Mestra also curbed her speed, the two of them coming to a stand-still atop the arch that spanned the little creek. The wind had a bit more potency up there, though it still had little bite. The mare took in the town in which she'd now lived for nearly as long as she'd lived with her magister in the little cottage in the woods. The quaint little houses seemed so much more welcoming and familiar than they had that first day in the thunderstorm.

The golden rays of the sun lit Misty's face and glinted off of her lavender eyes, "I don't want you to go."

Mestra felt somewhat surprised by the declaration but didn't know what to say. Her butterflies danced through the air about Misty.

"I would never have guessed a year ago that your coming would have affected me... affected us so. We were struggling just to keep ourselves fed; I wasn't sure we'd be able to help you, whether we wanted to or not. And Stormy... I've seen such a change in her. I can't tell you how much it means to me to have her back."

Mestra responded thoughtfully, "I am glad. My search is not done. I may have family. They might miss me."

Misty took a deep breath, wiping moisture from her eyes, "But what if it was all sadness. You told me that's how you lost your memories. The butterflies took you to that place where sorrow is forgotten. Did you ever think that maybe your life from back then was so sad that you're better off not knowing?"

It was a troubling possibility, but one that Mestra knew she would have to confront because more lives were in consideration than hers.

"I may have been sad. My family may be sad now. They might look for me. I need to find them."

Misty redoubled her attack, "You could spend years trying to find friends or family that may not even care that you're gone, but think of what you've already built here. If you go, if you leave Hollow Shades, Stormy and I will miss you, and I doubt we're the only ones."

Mestra felt her brow furrow. She hadn't considered the impact on the new friends she'd made. It was certainly an unintended complication. She wished her magister were there to give her proper advice on how to proceed. She watched her butterflies as they joyously flitted about. The words from her Magister's journal stayed at the forefront of her mind and helped form her reply.

"I must know if they are out there," she finally said.

Misty nodded, a single tear escaping before she wiped her eyes. She took a breath and started walking again. As they reached the bottom of the bridge, the elder made a final statement.

"I understand that you need to do this. I support you, but just remember that if you're ever in the area, you're always welcome at our home."

"Ah," Mestra felt quite warmed by the sentiment, "thank you!"

They walked back to the house in silence, and the forgotten mare put her rudimentary culinary skills to good use, assisting Misty in the preparation of dinner. A hearty salad with spinach and pecans served as the main course with fresh garlic bread to go alongside it. Baked cinnamon apples rounded out the meal as dessert.

The three also enjoyed their fellowship and warm conversation. All too soon, it was time for bed, and Mestra found herself packing her saddle bags for the coming journey the next morning. She knew what needed to be stowed within, but found herself moving at a snail's pace. Her butterflies danced about cheerfully in spite of the sullenness she felt inside.

Stormy entered the room, her toothbrush hanging from her mouth. She grabbed a brush for her mane from the dresser, awkwardly tucking it in one leg and walking back out again on the other three.

Redoubling her efforts, the forgotten mare was able to make a final push. By the time Stormy returned from her evening toilet rituals, Mestra had double-checked her supplies. She was packed and ready. All that remained was to get some sleep. Stormy threw herself into the bed and shut her eyes. The forgotten mare turned out the light and delicately walked through the darkness, sliding under the covers near her friend.

Mestra lay there for some time in thought. She had initially tried to sleep, but found herself wide awake, just counting the hours until she had to set off on her own once again. Her butterflies were resting on her new straw hat, their glow seeming dimmer while they slept, though still bright in the darkness.

"Mestra," came a whisper, "are you awake?"

Without turning or moving, she replied, "Ah."

"Big day tomorrow, huh?"

"Big day," the mare repeated absently.

"I just wanted to say that I'm really excited for you. I know you're nervous, but just think of all the new ponies you'll get to meet, and the new places you'll get to see..."

"Stormy want... wants to travel."

"You know I do. Someday I will."

"Someday."

"Someday, you'll find your family too."

Mestra rolled over and gazed at the blackness, just able to make out the silhouette of her friend in the dark and the reflection of the butterflies glinting off of her eyes.

"The way you went through all of Hollow Shades, I have no doubt, Mestra, with that kind of determination, you will find them."

It was an encouraging thought. Mestra could only wonder whether the next few towns would take as long to get through, if Hollow Shades were only a small one as many of its inhabitants had often said. But, if she didn't use up time in schooling and only stuck to taking what jobs she needed to sustain herself and devoted the rest of her time to the search, her speed would no doubt increase.

"Also," Stormy continued her hushed tone, "I'm really going to miss you."

Mestra didn't reply, but she felt a shrinking in the wellspring of her emotions as her eyes began to water.

"Getting to know you has been so much fun, and nopony is as surprised about that as I am. You're just... you're an amazing pony. I wish I could go with you."

"I..." there was a catch in Mestra's voice, preventing her from speaking.

The tears erupted from her eyes like a spring rain shower. Stormy reached out, pulling Mestra close in an embrace. Mestra let her emotions flow for a time, Stormy patting her back as she held her there. The closeness was comforting.

Mestra didn't want to be alone. The wish she had made on her birthday, Stormy had just spoken it aloud, even though Mestra had told nopony. She hoped that was a good omen, that perhaps it would come true, in spite of having been told that wishing on birthday candles wasn't real magic.

It seemed the truth of the matter was that the forgotten mare would be alone, and soon. Mestra felt sad at the prospect of leaving her new friends behind, almost as sad as when her magister had died. Misty and Miss Acumen, even Burble had tried to convince her to stay. Stormy was supportive, but clearly saddened as well. The forgotten mare was resolved; she would take the next step forward. Whatever adventures lay ahead, Hollow Shades would always hold a special place in Mestra Amymone's heart.


End file.
